


Honey Trap

by SuzyQSmilesForYou



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: M/M, mentor!Jessica, scheming!Jessica, somewhatAU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-01-14 18:04:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 191,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1275841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuzyQSmilesForYou/pseuds/SuzyQSmilesForYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike Ross is one of the best damn employees at Pearson Hardman. Only he's not Harvey's associate - he's Jessica's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet Your New Mommie

Donna felt a chill run up her spine. She didn’t have to look up to know who was making her way down the hall; didn’t bother to stop typing as she quickly pasted a smile on her face. There had been times like this before, of course, but this moment in particular filled her with a sense of foreboding. Like the time her father appeared at the end of the school day, waiting with an ice cream cone – only to tell her that Sparky had moved away to a farm upstate.

Yeah, even as an eight-year-old that lie was transparent as day.

To be honest, there was only one person to blame for this whole mess. When Jessica informed Harvey that as a newly minted senior partner he was required to hire an associate as a mentee, both she and the managing partner held their breath and awaited the howitzer’s explosion.

_“How the hell am I supposed to devote enough time to my clients and bring in new business while house training a puppy? Jessica, if I hadn’t done as much for you as I have, I’d be walking out the door.”_

_“Harvey, if I hadn’t run roughshod over as many bylaws for you as I have, I’d be dragging you to the elevators myself. You will hire an associate. If you bring in the summer associate douche, I will forbid you from terminating his employment and you will be stuck with him for no less than a year. Or would you like to be the first senior partner to share a desk with an intern in the mailroom? Have I made myself clear?”_

Donna had only trusted herself to raise her head two minutes later, finding her boss clutching one of his autographed baseballs so tightly she thought it might burst from the pressure.

Of course, had Jessica bothered to inform Donna of her plan, it might have gone smoother. No, scratch that. It definitely would have gone smoother. At the very least, they wouldn’t be in the mess they were in now.

Because Jessica Pearson was literally storming down the hallway. An executioner’s grin was just peeking out beneath her impeccably composed, professional face. The last time she charged like that, Cutler, Willis, and Robertson all found their degrees, not to mention their signed photographs with various Supreme Court justices, sailing out the window down fifty flights straight to the sidewalk. Donna made for the intercom button to warn Harvey, but with a quick flick of her head the secretary was given a silent ultimatum. Loyal, but never to the point of suicidal, Donna quickly went back to the dinner reservations to which she had been assigned.

No sooner had the door to Harvey’s office been thrown open before a small, girlish yelp rang out from inside.

“You,” Jessica pointed at the frightened, pale associate sitting in front of Harvey’s desk as he made a feeble attempt to stand up. “Out!”

Harold, bless his soul, managed to fling not just every folder, but actually every individual sheet of paper he was clutching in a different direction. She had to give him that – the kid turned nervous flinches into works of art. Jessica sidestepped him like a toreador as he sprinted past the glass shell of the office, covering his mouth so as to prevent another emasculated outburst. He didn’t even try to look at Donna as he rushed, no doubt for the restroom.

“I thought I told you to hire an associate, not the most awkward man baby in history. Should I have held your hand through the interview process as well?”

“Well good morning to you, too, Jessica. My new associate is just fine, thanks for asking. Great suggestion, by the way. He’d probably be even better if you hadn’t just caused him to throw his day’s work all over the floor. Honestly, I always figured you for a fan of Classical and Renaissance works, not performance pieces, what with all the company shindigs at the Met.”

Harvey, naturally, had never received the memo about not being suicidal.

“Harvey, don’t play games with me. You know I always win,” Jessica said as the corners of her mouth started to turn upwards ever so slightly. “Remember the poker game with that Vegas hotel magnate? You were eating ramen noodles for a month.” Donna always knew there was a reason the woman was managing partner.

“I thought we agreed never to speak of that again. Besides, Jessica, you know full well that I can handle my caseload. I hired the kid for a reason – Harold’s perfectly content with grunt work. He won’t be doing anything more complicated than filling out subpoenas. Oh, and correcting the typos of that idiot Louis brought in. What’s his name again? Kevin? Kirk? Kip?” Harvey scrunched his head in mock contemplation, exaggerating his feigned ignorance.

At the mention of Louis’ incompetent hiring practices, Jessica exhaled and relaxed, slightly. “Harvey, my promise still stands. You made your bed, now you have all year to sleep with…in…” she bent down to clutch the back of the chair in front of her, shaking her head. A beat later she turned her head back up and stuck a finger out towards him. “Just know this – the firm actually does need a new associate. A real one.”

“Well, good luck with that. I’m sure you’ll find a great one. Just like you would have found a great one if you hadn’t tried to turn me into the kind of senior partner who cares about the underlings. Really, Jessica, you know me better than anyone else. Why did you think this would turn out in any way other than this?”

“I’d never thought that you’d peak as just another senior partner, Harvey. But now I see that it’ll be a long, long time before I can consider throwing your name up on the wall beside mine.” At that, Harvey’s face made an unfamiliar contortion. Confusion? No, wait – shock. “And as for your suggestion, you’re absolutely right. In fact, by Friday I’ll have hired the best damn associate this firm has ever seen.”

“Excepting me, of course?” Harvey’s smug face was plastered back on.

“Keep telling yourself that, Harvey,” Jessica uttered, with a slightly hopeless huff, as she made to leave. “Without your ego, you’re not half the man you think you are. One day you’ll realize that might actually be an advantage.” Just as she re-opened the door, though, she turned on her stilettos. “I can only point the way, Grasshopper. You must walk the path yourself.”

“ _Kung Fu_? I thought we only did movie quotes.”

“This from the man who hasn’t even sat down to watch _Firefly_.” She made no further response as she exited, somewhat mollified but apparently more determined than anything else.

“Donna, go and make sure Harold hasn’t wet himself. Then have him pick up all of this,” Harvey said, gesturing to the floor, “and make sure he doesn’t have that paralegal do all of it for him out of pity.”

As she got up to go and coax out the ferret, she heard Jessica’s voice further down the hallway. “Not now, Louis.” Smiling, Donna remembered the other 10% of why she loved working here.

\-----

Life as Jessica Pearson’s personal assistant was never easy, or for that matter predictable. Wendy’s boss would have her learn a bit of Deutsch this week to impress a client, or a whole lot of Hangul the next to make sure that the translator she’d hired wasn’t slipping curse words into a memo for the sake of a lark. Or she’d be sent to go console whatever temp was crying in the file room after Louis had decided that “overbearing prick” wasn’t an apt description of himself but rather just two words stuck together by coincidence.

But of all the things she’d thought she’d hear coming from her boss’ mouth, this was never one of them.

“You want me to what?”

“I know those Jerry curls aren’t impairing your hearing. Set up an interview session for my new associate. Make sure it’s at one of the nice hotels. There’s nothing quite like tearing out the hearts of innocents while feasting on caviar.”

But, but…but. This was Jessica Pearson! The only female, African-American managing partner in all of New York. Her voice carried the force of a thousand Mongol legions. When she threw her fists down (which she never had need for which to resort), governors and senators all across the country felt their lunches start to rise back up their stomachs.

Had the power finally gone to her head? Why on earth would she need her own associate? Was that even allowed? She smacked herself mentally for that last thought – of course it was allowed.

“O-of course, Ms. Pearson. You have a meeting with David Morgan on Thursday morning, but I’m sure I can have him reschedule. Other than that, I don’t see any openings large enough to fit the, er…casting call.”

Jessica smirked. “Make it so.” She paused and then added, “Oh, and call the café where Donna gets Harvey’s coffee. Tell the barista to inform her tomorrow morning that they won’t be able to make any Americanos for the rest of the week. There’s some kind of snafu with the new machine.”

“Yes, Ms. Pearson.”

\-----

This definitely was not a drug deal. I mean, who would be desperate enough to agree to do something so stupid? You’d have to be a complete imbecile not to know that these things never went as planned. So of course that imbecile was himself. Mike really, really needed to stop agreeing to Trevor’s hair-brained schemes. He’d do this one favor for his friend, take the money to Grammy’s new care facility, and go back being an honest bike messenger.

And seriously, the Waldorf-Astoria? Not only would he have to haul $50,000 worth of weed in a briefcase – a briefcase that, by the way, had somehow migrated out of the 1980s where it belonged – but he’d have to walk past the smug faces of lunching ladies and wealthy tourists in the process. Damn you, Trevor.

Still, Mike made sure to check his surroundings. Might as well be somewhat aware before plunging into a situation from which he’d most likely never escape. That and he needed to calm. the. hell. down. There was nothing so inconspicuous as a young guy dressed in poverty chic in the lobby of a ritzy hotel hyperventilating. The woman at the front desk was probably going back and forth between “callboy” and “job applicant” as she stared at him.

Mike slipped into the restroom off the lobby so he could splash some cold water on his face. He took deep breaths, but he felt like he wasn’t fooling anyone. He didn’t even have a will. Not that he’d have much of anything to leave behind (or anyone to bequeath what little he did). As a matter of fact, Grammy would probably have a heart attack after she’d read the headline of the article describing the death of her only grandson in a drug deal gone bad. Taking for granted, of course, that the Stalinist nurses wouldn’t have thrown her out on the street among the other former patients by that point. Double damn you, Trevor.

“Get over it, Mike. This is the quickest, biggest paycheck of your life,” he muttered as he picked the briefcase back up. He made his way to the elevator bank, pressing the small “Up” button inlaid in a marble base. He took one more glance around the lobby, noticing a sign for interviews for associate positions at Pearson Hardman on the twentieth floor. “That should have been me,” he said to no one in particular.

\-----

Wendy had hoped that she might find her future husband at the recruiting session. A side benefit for having to round up every Howard undergrad with a Harvard J.D. in the city in forty-eight hours, she told herself. But the men sitting before her, not to mention the women, and the ones that had already been sent packing by her boss, well…were not marriage material. Hell, they weren’t even Wakefield-Cady material. Rationally, she knew that she wouldn’t be held personally accountable for the lack of a good prospect in the first eight interviews, but still she worried that she might be filling in for Norma sometime soon. She felt a tingle down her spine and shuddered.

The sense of dread still present, she reluctantly called out the next name. “Mohamed Mtembe?” She waited a bit, but before she could repeat herself, the second whitest man (after Harold) she had ever seen sprinted towards her desk.

“Yes?” he said as he tried to catch his breath and straighten his shoulders at the same time. The maneuver, while admirable, backfired, and he sent himself into a coughing fit.

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that you’re not originally from Tanzania. Moreover, you sure as hell are not named Mohamed Mtembe,” she warned, crossing her arms. “If I find out that Donna sent you as some kind of a joke, I’m going to-”

“What? Who? Look, miss,” he struggled to get out as the coughing abated, “I’m going to be completely honest with you. I just need a place to hide out from the cops for a bit.”

Donna could pick a good actor; that was for sure. Still, Wendy couldn’t summon up the appropriate harshness to send this waifish man packing. As her boss sent another dejected fellow out of the room, Wendy decided to take a risk. “ _Mr. Mtembe_ , this is Miss Pearson. Best of luck with your interview.” The man’s face rapidly morphed from bemusement to fear, but he slowly made his way towards the queen of Pearson Hardman. No one could escape her gravitational pull, especially not this little lamb.

Jessica shook his hand, and once he had stepped into the room, raised an eyebrow at her assistant. Wendy shrugged her shoulders and quietly apologized with a quick, “Not like we’re spoiled for choices.” Jessica rolled her eyes, but she walked into the room and shut the door behind her.

Scarcely a minute later, an equally out-of-breath bellhop practically ran into the secretary’s makeshift workstation. He looked around, and then asked her if she had seen a Caucasian guy with a briefcase run past.

“Sir, look behind you,” she commanded as she gestured to the men and women waiting in chairs in the hall. “We may be living in a colorblind society now, but the only man who even passes for White on this floor is you. I have no idea what’s going on, but if you interrupt Miss Pearson’s interviews, even divine intervention won’t be enough to save you.” Taken aback but still short of breath, he nodded. Performing an about face, he headed back towards the stairwell. As he disappeared from view, Wendy tried to imagine all the ways in which she could have stumbled into this strange Bizarro World.

\-----

“Persuasive as that may be, I was expecting a resume,” Jessica said, careful to restrain the surprise threatening to manifest on her face. There were ten - no, at least twelve - large bags of marijuana spilled out on the floor.

“Look, just don’t call the cops, okay? I’ll be out of here in ten seconds, flat,” the man said, hurriedly reaching down to replace the bags into the worn briefcase.

“And tell them what, exactly? That one of my applicants decided to multi-task an interview into his delivery schedule?” she said while considering whether the kid was armed. Unlikely, she concluded.

“I told your secretary…this whole thing is so stupid. I never should have tried this.”

“And what exactly is “this”? Ferrying contraband, assuming someone else’s identity, Mr. …Mtembe?” she asked, moving around the desk and leaning back to sit on the edge. “Here’s the deal: tell me your name, with some I.D., and give me three reasons why I shouldn’t phone the police, and I’ll let you go.”

“Is any of that negotiable?”

“Cute, kid. You almost sound like a lawyer, except you must be blind. Do I look like someone who begs for anything?”

“You probably begged for that bag,” the man said, pointing to the crocodile-skinned designer object resting on the side of the desk. “There’s a five-year waiting period, and since you aren’t a celebrity, I’m guessing you didn’t get it as a promotional gift.”

Jessica smiled internally. None of the other applicants had the gall to stand up to her aggression. Not that this kid was applying to any place other than the penitentiary. “How do you know that?”

“I like to read,” he said, getting up and sitting in the chair next to him. He seemed to have regained his head.

“I don’t know if I’d call Cosmo reading material. What do you do that leaves you with enough free time that you have to resort to girly magazines, aside from the drug dealing?”

“I’m a bike messenger.”

“And?”

The man exhaled. “And I take tests. I take the LSAT and the Bar Exam, probably for some of your underlings,” he smirked, then quickly added, “not anyone out in the hallway, though.”

“If you’re smart enough to pass the exams, why not go to law school yourself? I’d ask if your conscience held you back, but it’s hard to do that with all the ganja in your briefcase.”

“Not all of us have the money to pretend to be poor. Look lady, I made a mistake. I took a test for the dean’s daughter in undergrad and I got kicked out. I didn’t do it on a whim. A friend and I needed money to cover a debt. It’s the same this time, too. I need the money to keep my grandmother in the care facility. Sure, I dreamed about being a lawyer, but that path isn’t available to me. I barely make ends meet. How am I supposed to go back to school?”

“Do you think that’ll keep working out for you? When I came out of this room and saw you, you looked like you’d just sprinted for your life.” Jessica had been impressed with this man for a moment, but she was quickly becoming irritated. Oddly, it reminded her of Harvey.

Instead of answering, the man stared down at the floor. It was an obvious admission. He started to rise to his feet, but Jessica decided she’d test him a moment longer. “You dodged my earlier proposal. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

He stared at her for a bit. She wondered how he managed it – most people, certainly her employees, tried to avoid eye contact with her.

“Mike. Mike Ross.”

“I don’t suppose you have a driver’s license?”

“Lifelong New Yorker. When I don’t cycle somewhere, I take the subway.”

“Touché. Now show me that you can craft some arguments.”

“Reason one: I don’t know what your hourly rate is, but appearing as a witness in a criminal case would probably cost you a trip to the Bahamas.”

“The Bahamas are overrated. I prefer St. Kitts and Nevis. Try again.”

“Reason two: If you get me thrown in jail, you’ll most likely be responsible for shaving a few years off the life of my grammy.”

“First of all: ‘Grammy'; really? Second of all: appealing to my soul is completely useless since I don’t have one. You were better off appealing to my money market account.”

“Reason three: I’m better than all the stooges lined up out in the hallway.”

“Wild accusations might work with some idiot who couldn’t get out of jury duty, but you’ll have to show me some proof.”

“You mean you ignore your civic duty to your fellow Americans?” a snarky grin appearing on his face. Cocky little shit.

“Who’s the one trafficking narcotics?” Jessica grinned. Like taking candy from a baby.

“Touché. Alright, go ahead and ask me anything about the law.”

“If you’ve been lying about your talents up til now I’ll laugh you straight to lock-up,” she warned. Raising an eyebrow, she tossed out the most unlikely topic she could think of off the top of her head. “Stock option backdating.”

“Legal, but violations arise due to disclosure under IRC Section 409A.”

“Good, but you forgot about Sarbanes-Oxley.”

“Statute of limitations renders that law moot post-2007.” Mike looked entirely too satisfied.

“Not if you can find actions to cover up the violation. 6th Circuit, May 2008.” This kid was way out his league.

“True, but as a lawyer you know that opposing council would probably take the gamble on a trial, and then you’d be stuck trying to explain all of that to the, what was your word for them? Oh right, idiots in the jury.”

Just like that, the kid threw a Hail Mary. But she didn’t make it to where she was on dumb luck. “Assuming that the case ended up in a jury trial, and not in front of a judge. Furthermore, appeals courts have a way of throwing out the more ridiculous awards from juries, anyway. Those million dollar settlements for misplaced, “too hot” coffee? Please.”

“Well, what I do know is that we’ve been chatting for ten minutes, which I gather is more than any of the other applicants,” Mike responded. He sounded even more pleased now than he had a moment earlier. Still, he had a point. Unfortunately for him, Jessica hadn't forgotten the whole 'I'm a sham in an ugly suit' part.

“Mike, you have no legal degree. Not only that, but you’ve also informed me that you don’t even have a bachelor’s degree. This was a nice, entertaining aside, but I really need to get back to interviewing actual potential lawyers.”

“Right. So I guess I’ll be on my way, then,” he said, a bit dejectedly. This kid had no control over his emotions whatsoever. Until he could master them, he'd be nothing but a huge liability to any company.

“Sit down and wait a moment. I’ll go check with my assistant and make sure the police aren’t waiting to grab your boney hide.”

As she made her way to do just that, Jessica thought about all the other candidates. Each and every one of them seemed incapable. Worse than that, they reminded her of all the WASPs she had struggled against to be noticed at Harvard. They’d all coasted through their three years, ending up at one firm or another because their father’s friend was the COO of this or that corporation. Law school wasn't even a detour from easy street for them.

Meanwhile, she’d busted her ass. Not only had she had to work and study simultaneously to pay her bills, but also those of her mother and her little sister…Susan – she was just like Mike: talent but no drive. Christ, this kid was some kind of malformation of the people closest to her. And nothing like the men and women waiting patiently outside.

The thought of hiring one of those well-polished nobodies made her sick. Being unorthodox was how Jessica turned Pearson Hardman into the most tenacious, successful firm in the city. She hired whoever would bring in the most money, regardless of religion, race, sexual orientation, gender, or any other distinguishing nonsense. As proof of that, she needed only to point to Louis, who, but for his billables, would have been exiled away like a plague carrier.

But it was worse than that. She could already picture Harvey’s smug face upon hearing the bad news. He and that man baby he claimed to be an associate, laughing at her and her feeble, failed attempts to acquire the next ace associate for the firm. This wouldn’t stand at all. The best shot she had at shutting him up was still sitting behind her, clutching a briefcase full of Mary Jane. She shook her head, unable to believe that she was actually contemplating this. Before she turned the knob and let him escape, though, a further idea struck her.

Mike was youthful, lanky, naturally obedient and good-natured, but quick as a whip and smart-mouthed, too. She was so focused on his freaky mind that she hadn’t even taken into account his other…assets. This kid might as well have had “Harvey’s Type” branded on his forehead. A positively evil grin spread across her face, and she very nearly allowed the overjoyed chortle inside her mouth to emerge. Oh yes, this kid was going to be Harvey’s undoing. Perhaps even the means to finally keeping her number two in line. The whole scenario laid itself out to her, and she knew instantly that this brat was the best idea she’d had since hiring Harvey himself.

“Empty your pockets.”

“Excuse me? Are you really trying to shake me down before you send me packing?”

“No. I’m making sure you don’t have a recording device. Any lawyer about to have the following conversation would demand the same thing. Only some rash idiot would forget the obvious,” Jessica stated as she walked back to the desk. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you thinking about poaching some of my caviar.”

“How many times am I going to have the opportunity to eat caviar in my life?” Mike asked as he fished his wallet, keys, and phone from his trousers. At her motion, he turned off the latter, showing it to her for her certainty.

“If we pull this off, plenty. Undo the first four buttons of your shirt,” she continued. He blanched, but did as she commanded. He even tried to puff up his chest, but she merely rolled her eyes. Definitely a cocky little shit. She satisfied herself that he wasn’t part of a sting operation - one could never be too sure, especially with Hardman still around.

“First things first. I’ll take care of getting you the appropriate documentation in the right databases.”

“How are you going to-”

“Don't look the gift horse in the mouth, Ross. And while we’re at it, let’s make one thing clear: I’m doing this because I think you’ll make me a boatload of cash, not because of your heartwarming backstory. If you fail to bring in the bucks, you’re out. If you slip up, I’ll disown you. Do you know what the name of Pearson Hardman was before I took the managing partner position?”

“No.”

She smiled at that. “Of course you don’t, because not only did I boot out the other name partners – I made sure they’d never practice law anywhere closer to New York City than Nebraska.”

Mike swallowed hard. Jessica figured he’d never had anyone to call him out on his shit who wasn’t related to him. Boy was this kid going to get a steep learning curve.

“Listen to me and listen well. You will stop smoking weed from this moment on. If you reincarnate a thousand times over you will not touch the stuff. Don’t argue. You’re not an unmarried Nicaraguan mother – you didn’t get into drug trafficking without trying out the product first.”

Mike stared for a bit, but then carefully asked, “You’d trust whatever answer I’d give to that order?”

“Mike,” Jessica said with a saccharine beam that momentarily scared the man into catatonia, “have you ever watched _Mommie Dearest_? You do not want to break my trust. Now I’ll tell you again – no more weed.”

“Yes, ma’am. No more wire hangers, either; I promise.” He made a move to raise his right hand in a salute, but a quick glare made him drop it back to his side.

“You will ditch your loser friend, immediately. If you were dumb enough to get kicked out of school for him, then there’s no doubt in my mind that you’d let him convince you into doing something that would fuck up this opportunity. There are no third chances in life, Mike.”

Mike nodded, but neither one of them bought his affirmation completely. Jessica decided to refrain from straining the point. The kid didn’t seem to have many support lines, and she didn’t want to pull the rug out from under him before throwing him in the lion enclosure.

“Never expect kindness from me. Kindness is a boon that I alone may grant and frankly I’ve used up all of it by even suggesting this idea. Working at a law firm is unforgiving. My underlings are vicious and career-minded vipers, and that’s how I like them.”

Mike swallowed again and Jessica suspected he still thought he could disguise his anxiety from her, however slightly. There really was no in-between with him; he was either adorable or insufferable. “If it weren’t for all this hash, I could swear I just smelled fear.”

“No, ma’am. I’ll work twice as hard as anyone else. I won’t even mind being your cash cow.”

“Damn straight, Gecko. But there’s more for you in this than the money. You won’t have to worry about your grandmother being tossed into a state home,” she continued, still struggling to imagine how a grown man could call someone grammy.

“You’ll also be able to live the life that you told me you dreamt about. And I get the sense that you wouldn’t be half-bad on pro-bono cases. A kid like you should be smart enough to realize that they bring in more money than minor paid assignments, since they bolster the firm’s image. But you earn those feel-good cases by taking what I give you and not screwing up.”

Mike nodded, this time without tossing in some asinine comment.

“Good. I’m going to have my driver take you to the firm’s office,” she said as she fished out a business card, scribbling her signature on the back of it. She handed it to him. “You will give this to the receptionist. You will make it known that I will see you immediately when I return.”

“Wait, why aren’t we going together?”

“Because I still need to finish interviewing the rest of these candidates, or at least a decent number of them. It would be awfully careless of me to just send them all home. How do you think it would look if I hired the only White applicant? Especially if he was also the worst dressed candidate, showed up late, and gave me a lame-ass handshake?” Mike scowled at that last bit. “You might want to work on that, Ross. Opposing council won’t respect a kid with lady fingers.”

“I was trying to lose an undercover cop! Excuse me for having other things on my mind.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “Lame excuse.

“Oh, and if the real Mohamed Mtembe turns up, I’ll have to reconsider all of this.” Mike expression became aghast, like the last ten minutes had been a joke. Jessica ignored it and kept up her scolding. “You can’t just go borrowing people’s identities and not expect repercussions. Next time, pick a convincing alias,” she said, curving her lips ever so slightly.

Jessica got up and headed out into the hall, Mike following behind lamely. He was probably still processing what had just happened. “Wendy, call Keith and tell him to pull up outside the lobby. He’ll drive Mike home so he can drop off this…briefcase” she said, gesturing to it and praying the latch didn’t fail again. She turned to him and added, “It might disgust some of our clients, and we wouldn’t want that.

“When you get to your place, grab a messenger bag or a backpack or something else durable, because you’re going borrow a few legal texts from my office. You might know the law fairly well, but that’s not enough. From now on, you eat, sleep, and breathe the law.”

Turning, she saw her assistant broadcast a blip of shock but then quickly reach for her phone. “Once that’s done, Wendy, go ahead and send in the next applicant.”

\-----

“Harold, do you really expect me to make the other associates be nice to you? Christ, how the hell did you ever make through Harvard?”

“Erm.”

“Or maybe you’d like Donna to go and sort them out?”

“Yes! That would be great, actually.” At that, a snort came through over the intercom.

“Sure, kid. Then she’ll show how to comb your hair and maybe even how to wipe your ass.”

“There are not enough shoes in the universe,” warned Donna, opting to shout through the glass walls this time.

Harvey smirked, turning back to Harold. His associate was actually reliable and fairly capable with the written work, but completely useless at everything else. He’d tried to let him sit in on a meeting, but that test had gone about as well as anyone would expect. Since then, he’d kept him rooted in his cubicle. Of course, at this rate, he’d have to find him some empty space in the storage in the basement, what with all the mean, cruel associates in the pool. Lord, when he came here from the D.A.’s office years ago, it had never been a problem. One glare and his peers had known well enough not to haze him. Except for a certain someone…

“Harvey, do you know if Jessica’s come back yet? I can’t wait to meet her associate so I can dump a month’s worth of work on him just when he first gets into the pool,” gushed an excited Louis. Donna mouthed an apology; he must have run all the way from his office just to ask him.

He turned back to his formerly seated associate, noticing that the commotion had caused Harold to drop his sandwich. He was kneeling, trying to pick up all the assorted pieces. Thankfully, he’d already made the kid swear off condiments, so at least there wouldn’t be a stain (this time). “Louis, get out.”

“Harvey, I-”

“No, Louis, I don’t await the arrival of new employees with the same sense of sadistic glee as you. This firm is not a telenovela. Maybe you should have a conversation with your wife about how she’s not satisfying your needs. See, that’s funny because you don’t have a wife. Now, get out.”

Louis opened his mouth as if armed with a retort, but crammed it shut as Donna walked through the open doorway with a bottle of Febreeze. She gave him a look she usually saved for construction workers, and he booked it back down the hallway. “That’ll teach him to think he can ignore me and just waltz in here.” She took the bottle and sprayed the spot where the tuna from Harold’s sandwich had lain on the floor. Harvey reminded himself to sell the kid on hotdogs one of these days.

Harold rose as well, taking the remains of his lunch and a stack of briefs with him. “I’ll have these ready by tomorrow, Harvey. I-I’ll try to put up with the other associates on my own.” His gait was stuttered, and it was impossible not to be both amused and embarrassed, mostly for his parents.

Harvey nodded and returned to his own work while his associate exited. He finished a whole paragraph before he looked up and saw Donna still standing in front of him. “And what can I do for you? Is there a big bad spider that needs squashing? Have you run out of tissues?”

“Please. Don’t dodge the issue,” she said, taking the other seat. “You may act like you don’t care about office gossip, but I know you, Harvey. When you’re not moping like a thirteen-year-old, you’re trying to figure out who’s been boinking whom.”

“I object fully to the first assertion; moreover, I have never used the word “boink” once in my life…what dirt do you have on Jessica’s associate?”

Donna smirked and set the bottle down on the floor. She then laid her hands out flat on his desk, as if about to share a secret at a girls’ sleepover. “Jessica hasn’t returned, but I called Wendy and bugged her until she told me that the guy might have already arrived here. Now I looked out in reception but the only person who looked out of place was this young guy in a cheap suit. Well, “cheap” would probably be kinder than it deserves. Oh, and Mr. Sweedleson.”

“Sweedleson? Is he getting divorced again? I’m so tired of-”

“Harvey? Focus,” Donna ordered as she snapped her fingers in front of his face. “He might be over in HR, though. I’m shaking the grapevine to see if anyone knows more. Oh, and I promised Wendy that you’d comp her a dinner on your corporate card.”

“Donna, I don’t mind you using that perk, but that’s something that’s only between us. I can’t be financing your whole intelligence-gathering network singlehandedly.”

“I love you, too, Harvey.”

Harvey rolled his eyes, about to shoot back something about getting Donna a job at the NSA, when her phone started buzzing. “Jessica’s back,” she started as she rose to her feet. “Now go see if she’s brought her new pet in with her.”

“Please. I have to go speak with her about something pertaining to the Zinoviev case, anyway. Now get back to work before I start billing for you these interruptions.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Donna said with a huff as she spun dramatically and tossed her hair over her shoulder, just like the aristocratic heiresses Jessica occasionally forced him to represent.

Harvey followed after, walking down the hall towards the corner office. Norma must have informed Louis of Jessica’s arrival, because he was already standing by the door waiting for her like a stooge. Sometimes the man was just a blatant caricature.

“Louis, I hope you haven’t been waiting all day for me. Your billables won’t rack themselves up,” Jessica joked as she walked toward him, arriving at the same time as Harvey and with the man Harvey assumed Donna had seen earlier in tow. She opened the door and the four of them went inside.

“What is this?” Louis asked, gesturing to the man. Taking a good look at him, Harvey realized he had a boyish face only outdone by Harold.

“Louis, we’ve been over this before. We do not refer to people as ‘this’” or ‘that’ or ‘that thing’, regardless of what they look like.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Who is he and what is he doing here?”

The man looked ready to say pipe in, and Harvey couldn’t blame him if the next thing out of his mouth was an insult. Louis had the remarkable talent of being able to make people detest him from the word go. Jessica, however, quickly lobbed off “delivery boy.”

“Since when does the delivery boy wear a suit? And where is the package?”

“Well, Louis, maybe if you tipped better your delivery boys wouldn’t have to dress in rags,” Jessica fired back. Louis actually looked like he was considering the statement, but she kept going, “and if I showed you what he was delivering that would defeat the purpose of making him wait to do it in person. More importantly, why are you two in my office when you should be working?” she asked, fishing around in her wallet. Harvey didn’t believe her for a second. He knew for a fact the smallest bill she kept in that thing was a c-note.

Instead of speaking, however, he kept up his inspection of the man. The guy already knew that the best way (for anyone other than Harvey) to behave around Jessica was to shut up. No way he was a split-second encounter. She definitely wouldn’t have allowed someone who looked like that near her otherwise. His hair was a mess (Harvey felt the sudden urge to pat the top of his head). He was scruffy, too, like he’d shaved but hadn’t switched to a new razorblade for a month. His clothes were completely atrocious. He probably had a nice body but the suit was too large and he looked like a detective from a late 1930s noir crime flick, complete with a belt that cinched his waist too high and tie that was intolerably skinny. On top of that his shoes were scuffed all over – and, egad, they were open-laced.

If Harvey didn’t know better, he’d think that Jessica had brought this guy in specifically to fire up all of the senior partner’s latent styling synapses. He also wondered if he could manage to get the guy’s number without Jessica finding out. It was only then that he realized that he was staring, and that the kid was blushing. He rotated his gaze away and could have sworn he’d seen the tiniest glimmer of accomplished satisfaction on Jessica’s face.

“I want to handle the Zinoviev case,” Louis started. “Harvey is too busy trying to keep his associate from mangling other business, so it only seems to serve the best interests the client.”

“Really? Leaving that old man, who endured the gulag, alone to have his case ‘handled’ (Harvey gesticulated the word) by you? Why don’t we just have Kip ‘handle’ it? Lord knows he couldn’t screw it up any worse than you,” Harvey countered. Strangely, he suddenly felt like he was trying to impress the other man in the room. It was invigorating.

“Louis, no. Harvey, I’ll get back to you regarding the question you sent over earlier,” she uttered, still digging around in her bag. She stopped and looked up at the two partners, raising her voice as she added, “And stop pestering Louis. I am not the mother of either one of you. Nor is this a daycare facility.”

“Then at least tell us whether you picked out an associate already,” Louis fired, in probably the least subtle execution of the bait-and-switch information grab gambit ever attempted. Harvey smirked, but stilled as he felt the gaze of the other man falling on him now.

“As if you came in here for any other purpose,” Jessica said. “Rest assured, I have made a selection and I’m cautiously optimistic that he’ll be an excellent addition to the firm’s roster. But I’m honestly having doubts about the two of you right now. Scram.” She motioned to the door and Louis quickly exited, satisfactorily upbraided (had he had enough hair for braids; Louis: 0, Harvey: 10,000,001?).

Harvey turned, and with a corners-only smile said, “Don’t think I don’t know that you’re up to something. I’m going to figure it out eventually.” Then he shoved his hands in his pockets and started the walk back to his own office.

\-----

Mike stared in horror as his backpack strained to fit all of the (few?!) books that Jessica’s assistant – Wendy, he’d learned – placed in it. She’d also purchased him a round-trip flight to Boston to learn everything (“and I mean everything – that freak brain of yours was made for this”) about Harvard Law.

“You also need to buy some suits. Good suits,” Jessica said, gawking at new associate’s attire in the better lighting of her office. She pulled out another business card with embossed printing and placed it on the top of a stack of forms in front of him. “That’s a tailor that some of the partners use. Go see him early tomorrow, and before he can throw you out of his shop, tell him that I sent you. You’ll be in there for at least a couple hours.

“When I tell you to purchase suits know that I also mean new shoes, belts, tie clips and a decent watch.” She paused, and then, in a tone Mike couldn’t place, added, “The ties are fine. Absolutely no wider than the one you’re wearing now.”

He wondered about that last bit, but all of the focus on clothing made him replay the sparring match earlier. Specifically the well coifed man who had given him the once-twice-and-thrice over. He was clearly some kind of _GQ_ fanatic, but the staring hadn’t been a one-way affair. Still, intrafirm shagging didn’t seem like the best use of his limited remaining time to ask questions of his soon-to-be boss. Instead, he returned to the conversation he had momentarily forgotten. “Um, I don’t exactly have money for a wardrobe update. I also need cash to cover the down payment for grammy’s care. I don’t suppose we could talk about a signing bonus.”

Jessica and Wendy both looked at him like he was crazy, but before he could curse his audacity, Wendy handed Jessica her checkbook. She jotted something down and then tore it out, handing it to Mike. He gazed down in naked shock at all the zeros. “That ought to be enough for you. I’ll deduct the extra from your quarterly bonus, assuming you last that long.” Mike opened his mouth just in time for her to cut him off again. “And remember to spend some of that on food. You’ll lose weight as a first year, and you really don’t have much of a buffer zone at the moment.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, absently patting his abdomen.

“Good,” Jessica added. “Now the flight is Saturday morning. After you get fitted for your new suits you’ll take the afternoon to return the weed that nearly got you locked up. You will cut all ties with Trevor. You will not allow him to find out about any of this. We can trust Wendy,” she said, turning to her assistant, “but everyone else is a potential extortionist. You do know the difference between blackmail and extortion, right?”

“Uhh…blackmail always involves extortion but not the other way around, right?”

“And that’s why you’ve got two-and-a-half weeks to learn. I know you’re a book lover, but if those tomes don’t come back dog-earred and marked up I’ll fire you on the spot. They’re not first editions, you know.”

“Yes. Of course, Ms. Pearson.”

“It’s Jessica in here,” with the slightest hint of warmth. “Wendy, all loaded up?” The secretary nodded, struggling to heft the backpack over to him. “Good. I’ll see you two weeks from Monday. Keith will drive you home. Get lost.”

As Mike took the pack, struggling and then stumbling until he recovered his footing, he followed Wendy out to her desk. She turned, sized him up one last time, and told him, “I don’t know what’s gotten into either of you, but if you could pull off what you did at the hotel, you should make it here no problem.”

“Thanks,” Mike said as he followed her pointed finger back towards the elevators while she resumed her seat at the desk. The day wasn’t even over yet, and he already felt like his whole life had changed. As he walked away from his new boss’ office, he heard her voice over the intercom asking to send for someone named Donna. Or at least, that’s what he would have heard if the billion thoughts in his mind weren’t screaming out at him all at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first work. Holy crap. Talk about jumping in the deep end.
> 
> I'm going to tell you all right now: I'm terrible with deadlines. I'm tentatively holding myself to a weekly(ish) update schedule. That way I should have enough time to revise and assure some semblance of quality.
> 
> It's rated explicit because there will be sexy time...eventually. There might be other pairings, but I'm still sketching out how I want to get to my intended destination.
> 
> It's going to be a wild ride. Hopefully you guys will enjoy it.


	2. Preparations & First Encounters

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Mike was going to be late on his first day.

Well, on time, but wasn’t that late? He’d never had a corporate gig before, and now he was cursing himself for zoning out during all those mandatory Employer Expectations seminars he’d attended in college years back. He figured Professor Tramwell was rolling in his grave, but given how much of a fellow stoner the man had been, he was probably doing so in the mellowest way possible.

Mike narrowly avoided a taxi as it flew through the red light, reminding himself to focus on the road and hyperventilate about his first day only when he made it there alive. No use pulling an Orpheus.

Calming himself, he thought instead about his appearance. The suit should survive the journey okay, and if he made it there early he might even be able to do something with the inevitable helmet head he’d otherwise be rocking. He’d hadn’t bothered wearing sneakers for the commute, instead just throwing on the ridiculously overpriced pair of dress shoes Rene had insisted were necessary. Seriously, beyond black and brown, what was the difference? And if he was just a lowly associate resigned to paperwork, couldn’t he just wear some Chucks? It was like every ‘real’ lawyer had a sartorial fetish, and until his developed, he’d just have to fake it.

Ugh. This was all so stupid. In all likelihood, he’d be fired by end of business today. There had to be some kind of office pool on his termination date: Friday, first week – ten to one.

Dodging a black town car as it switched back to the right side of the road going in the opposite direction, Mike’s mind meandered to how Midtown traffic had degenerated to this. When he had worked as a bike messenger, he’d stayed mostly downtown and in Williamsburg. On lucky days, he’d been assigned to ferry galley copies between publishing house offices. Not only had the drivers there been more aware of his presence, but the job itself even offered the lure of free reading material. If one little book had gone missing during his lunch break, well, what could you do about it?

Wait, did his new watch have the correct time? Had he even remembered to put the battery in it?

At that point, Mike told his brain to cram it. There’d be no use worrying about all the possible outcomes. Only one would actually happen, as Grammy liked to say. Still, with Jessica Pearson as his boss, could you really blame him for freaking out? Especially with everything that had happened to him in the past two weeks…

\-----

Friday morning had been more tedious than it had any right to be. He’d awoken in the comfortable surroundings of his apartment – comfortable not so much because of the jerry-rigged radiator, lumpy couch, or suspicious smell emanating from the stairwell. It was more that he didn’t have to worry about making rent for the next few months, and he hadn’t been that lucky in a long, long time. (The feeling he’d had depositing that check the night before? A-MAZ-ING.)

He’d thrown on his best casual clothes. His bright red t-shirt, which had somehow avoided any disfigurement up until now, fitted neatly over the jeans that occupied the middle space between his ‘I’m getting free drinks from hot guys in these’ pair and his ‘accompanying Grammy to Mass’ pair in terms of tightness. He splashed some water on his hair to hold it down and checked the address on the card Jessica had given him yesterday.

He considered the best route to take to get there as he left his apartment and raced down the stairs. It was a sunny, gorgeous day – the kind of day made for cycling, if only to tease motorists stifling in their heat trap automobiles. Unfortunately, an errant degree of sense warned him to stick to the train.

“Looks like it’s going to be an L-to-the-A kind of day,” he sang, heading in the direction of the closest stop. Speaking of which, he definitely need some new sunglasses. He wasn’t going to be able to pull off Mike Ross, A-hole Attorney at Law, without aviators.

That thought kept him in high spirits until he had spotted the tailor’s, tucked away from the street. He hadn’t exactly expected Men’s Wearhouse, but the tiny storefront seemed almost…dismissive. There wasn’t even a sign in the window; just the address on the door. Like it didn’t need to advertise. Like the owner didn’t want to attract the ‘wrong element’. It briefly dredged up all of the self-doubt inside him. He took a moment to stop and shake out his worries.

Courage regained, he opened the door and stepped inside. The air was thick, even though the shop wasn’t exactly filled to the brim with merchandise. In fact, there weren’t very many racks at all. Mike had never bought a suit at a place where the clothing hadn’t been jammed together, vying desperately for what little hanger space was available. As he approached the closest selection, a svelte, white-haired man appeared from a doorway in the back.

“Don’t you belong in a store with a flashing blue light?” he asked snidely, leaning sideways on a nearby table.

“Look, I just came in to buy some suits and get them fitted, dude,” Mike replied, backing slowly from the clothing. The man’s face remained stone still, so Mike added hopefully, “Jessica sent me?”

“You think you’re the first rookie to try that line on me? Although, most people claim it was Harvey or Louis that sent them,” the man fired, beginning to walk towards him.

“…I promise I’m nothing like Louis.”

There was a brief pause, and then the heavy air in the room seemed to dissipate. The man’s face broke into a smile and he held out his hand. “Rene. And you are?”

Mike was conscious of putting enough force into the handshake, recalling his boss’ comment from the previous day. “Mike Ross, your newest, best customer.”

“We’ll see about that. Hmm, I don’t think I’ll be able to take in any of the suits out here enough to fit your frame,” he said, appraising Mike’s figure. He gestured towards the backroom and began leading the young man there. “Oh, and a bit of advice. Don’t go calling people ‘dude’, especially if they’re old enough to be your father.”

“I’m more of a text and numbers kind of guy,” Mike answered. He was going to continue the thought, but once they had crossed the threshold the sheer cornucopia of suits gobsmacked him. For a store with such a small front, it was cavernous back here.

“Marie, we have a customer that needs measuring. Also, do you think we can get any OshKosh in? He’s a bit of runt,” Rene bellowed, turning to look triumphantly at Mike. “I’m more of a cut and sew kind of guy, myself.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“I’m not sorry. Do you want me to build you a wardrobe or not?”

Mike was about to respond, but an irritated-looking woman emerged from a heap of scraps. She looked at him and beckoned silently with a single finger.

The thing you had to realize about Mike was that he considered himself mostly gay. He hadn’t been seriously involved with a chick for years, and that had been because Trevor had goaded him into it for the sake of a double date. Sure, he found them attractive, and on rare occasions when he was tired of dealing with emotionally stilted men, he’d pick one up at the bar. But when he pictured himself with someone for the long haul, it was always a man - one tough enough to endure his freak-outs and foul moods. In fact, Grammy’s favorite jab was wondering aloud Mike’s true intentions for taking up wrestling in high school. She was never going to let that one go.

But shoved in front of that three-panel mirror, with an agitated, kinda hot woman squatting and taking his in-seam? Well, Mike wasn’t a saint. Still, he kept his eyes focused straight ahead and hands balled into fists at his side, wondering if maybe this situation wasn’t a secret thrill for the apprentice of the master tailor. Speaking of whom, where had he gone?

“I think we’ll go with a couple gray and a couple black numbers to start you off,” he began aloud, as if he had teleported back into the room in that moment. “All but one will be thin material, since we’re just entering New York City summer. One with pinstripes; I’d normally advise against them, but you’re scrawny enough to pull them off. We’ll stick with two-button, single-breasted jackets. Two-piece only. Nothing more complicated than that.”

Mike turned to look at him as Marie arose, her task completed. “Skinny, skinny, skinny,” she muttered. “For his frame, though he has thighs and an ass like a tree trunk. You cycle?”

“Yeah. You noticed?”

“I noticed the mole on your back just below your right shoulder blade,” she said a bit louder. She wrote his measurements down on the card and handed it to Rene. “Be sure to give him some extra room in the crotch,” she warned before disappearing, causing Mike to blush like a schoolgirl. He knew he hadn’t been the only one enjoying that little scene.

“Don’t mind Marie. It’s almost time for her smoke break,” Rene clucked, as if she had been talking about the price of cabbage instead.

“So I’m good to go? You’re going to Tom Ford me up now that you have my size?” Mike asked, ready to escape.

“We’re not even close to done. I’m going to have you try some of these on. If you’re good, I might even let you pick one out yourself. Then, I’m going to make sure you know how to match shirts, ties, and shoes to your suits. We’ll pick those out, as well, and I’ll order them so you can get everything when you come back. Wendy sent me an email this morning with all of Jessica’s expectations. Although to be honest, the skinny ties…well-”

“Wait, so you knew who I was before I even walked in?”

“Yes, and I decided to have some fun with you. Just like I’m going to have some more fun by forcing you try on as many of these suits as I please. It’s not often that I get someone with your dimensions,” Rene said as he began pulling various numbers out and hanging them on a rolling stand.

“Fine, but FYI: I’m ninety percent gay. I think I have the matching thing down now, so we can skip that part,” Mike said confidently.

Rene turned, gave him another glance, and then judged, “Ninety percent might not be enough in your case. Alright, enough clap-trap, junior.” He rolled the stand into the fitting room and Mike hung his head, guessing he’d be enduring another three hours of hemming and hawing. He wasn’t mistaken.

\-----

Jessica pinched the bridge of her nose. Leave it to some of the best, highest-paid lawyers in the country to spend the bulk of a meeting arguing about who stole whose blueberry Activia from the partners’ kitchen. She thought their petition to install cameras to ensure the associates weren’t sneaking in had been an April Fools’ prank. The discussion having bled into the minutes of the May meeting, though, she realized she had been blindly optimistic.

Speaking of fools, she wondered where her soon-to-be associate was. If his flight was on schedule, he should have returned from Boston a few hours ago. She hadn’t anticipated the additional challenge of that paralegal’s campus visit, but Mike had managed to avoid disclosing any incriminating details without arousing suspicion. She knew picking him hadn’t been completely stupid on her part, but it was nice to get some actual confirmation.

“Damnit Carol, Richard has a point. I’m not going to let you stonewall him the same way you stonewalled me when my bran bars started disappearing from the pantry. I’ll have you know-”

Jessica panned to the right, watching as Harvey eagerly sketched a picture of a batter (probably himself) swinging at a ball that looked suspiciously like Louis’ head. It was actually pretty good, and Harvey seemed pleased with himself as he filled in the shading. All the scene was missing was a juice box feathered with a little plastic straw.

It made her recall one of her proudest moments: the last time she had seen Daniel Hardman. Before he chucked the phone at her, he’d said she had no compassion and that she’d never be a mother. She drew in a deep breath, conceding the former point. The latter, well, based on the scene before her she figured she had enough offspring to compete with the women of Borough Park.

That damn kid – he was making her sentimental and he hadn’t even officially started yet.

“That’s it! I can’t even believe I’m saying this, but so be it. I will launch an investigation into the matter of the missing foodstuffs. Until then, any further mention of the topic is tabled. If there’s nothing else,” she said, gazing from one exhausted face to another, “I think we would all like to make an otherwise awaited Friday a little less miserable. Therefore, meeting adjourned.”

Dodging Louis’ effusive flattery for caving to his demand, Jessica managed to extricate herself from the conference room first. Hurrying to the elevator she rang her driver. “Keith – yes, but hurry. It’s been one of those days. Yes…yes. Hmm, I think I’d like a little Betty Wright. Okay, thanks.” Grateful that she couldn’t spot anyone else waiting for a lift, she snuck into the first one that opened and tapped the ‘L’ and ‘Close Door’ buttons as fast as she could.

Not nearly fast enough, unfortunately. Harvey stuck his arm between the doors and stepped inside as they opened.

“So.”

Frustrated that she couldn’t even have an elevator ride to herself, Jessica gave no response, opting to stare ahead.

“I noticed that your little associate hasn’t appeared thus far. It’s been a week, and I couldn’t help wondering…”

“Wondering what exactly, Harvey?”

“Well, my downstairs neighbors’ daughter has an imaginary friend now. It’s kinda cute. Not so cute when a managing partner develops an imaginary associate,” he said, that smug grin reappearing on his face as she turned to face him.

The nerve of that man.

“It’s only been a week, Harvey. You know we have to wait before bringing people on. I didn’t just pick a bum off the street and give him a cubicle.” (Well, actually, yeah, she kind of did. Still, Harvey didn’t need to know that just yet.)

“But I thought we needed an associate so~ badly,” he continued, more teeth appearing. “A real one. Your own words.”

“Don’t you have a Brazilian supermodel pining for you at some candlelit table tucked away in the back of _Per Se_?” Jessica shifted.

“Argentine. She’s drop-dead gorgeous. I’ll show you a picture sometime. But it’s only 6:30, and you know I don’t clock out before 8:00 – even on a Friday. I just wanted to make sure that you’re still of sound mind.”

“Well, I was before you harangued me in the elevator. By the way, I’ll see your Argentine and raise you a Swiss. Enjoy the rest of your evening,” she said, reverting her gaze to the doors. As they opened, she turned back to Harvey a final time and finished, “Oh, and the yogurt? Stop stealing it. I know I tell you you’re full of shit, but that stuff’s not the solution.”

He threw his hands up and attempted puppy-dog eyes as she stepped out. Shaking her head, she let the closing doors end the conversation.

\-----

Harvard had been incredible. Except for a couple of school trips to Albany and Philadelphia, Mike had never left the city. Hell, he hadn’t even flown in a plane before that. Grammy had actually snuck a brown paper bag into his carry-on when he stopped to see her before his flight, in case he needed it for takeoff.

God, he was such a dork sometimes.

Setting that thought aside, it was just like imagined his years at Harvard would have been. Well-manicured lawns and ivied buildings, men and women with salt-and-pepper hair lecturing to their students in sylvan spots, even Frisbees – yeah, he would have had a blast here. Grammy was right to worry – it did make him a bit remorseful.

So he’d cheered himself up by making a game of memorizing everything. He took the little fold-up map and stared at it for fifteen minutes straight until there was a miniature campus existing in his brain. Once finished with that, he began wandering around the buildings he could access without a student ID card (and faking his way into a couple of the others).

He was glad his first thought was of business, because he wasn’t expecting a test from his boss quite so early. It happened just as he was walking past a guided tour group, on his way to see if he could get a peek at the law library. A voice called out to him, gently at first but steadily more forceful.

“Hey! Haven’t I seen you before?” A woman around his age stood looking at him as if trying to place him in the correct photo album. Her long brunette hair was fastened into a messy ponytail, and looking down he saw that she was already decked out in university apparel. Harvard t-shirt underneath a blazer, Harvard ball cap resting on a folder emblazoned with the Harvard logo – whoever she was, she obviously knew where she wanted to go to school.

“Uh, I don’t think so.”

“No, I definitely have,” she said nodding. Her memory must have returned because there was a visible jolt to her face. “I saw you at the office! Pearson Hardman! But you looked…different.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he said, processing his words only a split second before he was saying them. “I got a job there this week.”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. You’re the new associate?” though it wasn’t really a question, more a stall tactic as her brain caught up. “You’re Jessica’s associate?! No way.”

At that point the tour guide stopped what he was saying and looked at Mike, equally incredulous. “Jessica Pearson’s associate?” How big was the legal rumor mill, anyway?

“Haha. We’re just joking people. As if someone like her’d hire a kid like me,” he said to the crowd. Once they returned their attention to the building where John Adams had lived while studying for his A.M., Mike turned back to the woman and said in a hushed tone, “It’s supposed to be a secret, okay?”

“Okay,” she mouthed apologetically before gesturing zipping her lips. “Though, I’ve gotta say – you didn’t exactly look very Pearson Hardman.”

“Don’t worry. I burned that suit. I can’t use a disguise more than once, anyway.”

She laughed before giving him a conspiratorial look. “Well, secret agent associate, in New York I’m known as ‘The Paralegal’, but here you can call me Rachel.” She eyed him for a beat. “Rachel Zane…just don’t ask about my dad, okay?”

“Mike Ross,” he said, doing his best to hide his confusion about that last bit. “Don’t worry, I won’t press you on your parentage.”

“Good.” But her satisfaction quickly gave way to renewed confusion and a new line of questions. “Wait. I’m here for the campus tour. What are you doing here?”

Rapid-fire lying had never been Mike’s strong suit, but Manjushri must have had his back in that moment. “Uhh, just here…to see one of my old professors…I figured I could use a few words of encouragement before starting the new job.” Thank god Rachel wasn’t Grammy. She’d have seen through that in a second.

“Really? Couldn’t you have just done that with an email? I mean, I know associates make bank but it seems a little silly to come all the way out here just for that.” Or maybe not. If you give a paralegal a fat-mouthed lie…

“Well, he and I used to meet at a bar here. It’s kind of our tradition. And I probably just needed to change up my surroundings. Do you know I still have two weeks before I start? It’s like they’re trying to make me go nuts.”

“That I understand.” (Whew.)

“Wait, one of your professors was your drinking buddy?” she asked before beginning the real interrogation: “Tell me right now Mike. Did you sleep your way to a J.D.?” And just when he thought he’d heard the worst of it, she tossed out the real lunker. “Are you into older men?”

Mike immediately broke out into a fit of coughing.

“It’s alright, Mike. Pearson Hardman is a safe place; well, at least as long as you rake in the dough,” she said, satisfied that her intuition had apparently proven correct.

“Just so long as we’re clear that I did not sleep my way to a degree,” Mike checked as the coughing abated.

“Don’t worry. But a word of advice: watch out for Harvey Specter. The man goes through sex partners like a tornado,” she warned in a hushed tone. “There’s a rumor going around that he,” she paused to look around again in the most attention-drawing way imaginable before continuing, “that he got stuck with his current associate as Jessica’s punishment for dipping his pen in too many paralegal blotters.”

“But not you, right?”

“Of course not!” she practically shouted, scandalized by the thought. “I don't even think he knows my name. At least that’s what his assistant told me one time when we got lunch together.”

“Speaking of which – I don’t know about you, but I’m famished. Tell you what; I know a late-lunch place that’s nearby. How about we grab something and you can catch me up on all the office gossip?”

Her eyes lit up at that. “Excellent idea. I’m kind of a foodie, though, so I might order for the both of us.” They had only taken a few steps when Rachel turned and said to him, “Mike Ross, I think we’re going to be great friends.”

Mike, much as he liked her already, prayed he could keep steering the conversation as well as he had. When Rachel popped into the ladies’ room after finishing her Maine lobster salad (it was too warm for clam chowder), he fired a quick text off to Wendy to ‘thank’ Jessica for the walking pop quiz.

\-----

Sometimes Harvey was impossible to deal with. He’d wait outside his building, looking miserable. At first it was hard to see how someone who got so much action wasn’t constantly floating along on a cloud.

Of course it didn’t help that when he first rode with Ray by name, the man only listened to Coltrane or his late father’s recordings. Talk about wallowing. It got to the point that he’d been forced to speak up about it, which resulted in the fight that both pretended to forget ever since. The subsequent six weeks had been completely silent, until finally Harvey huffily agreed to allow his driver the privilege of picking the music.

He was careful to introduce light-hearted tracks slowly and made sure to intersperse them among the heavier stuff. It took a lot longer than he’d expected, but slowly the music’s vibes caught on in his boss’ attitude. Once he felt like he could trust Harvey not to mope, he reverted control. Oddly, Ray got the sense that Harvey preferred to have someone else (aside from Donna or Jessica) make some of the decisions in his life, but he’d never admit it. He’d certainly been burned enough to justify that.

Harvey, being Harvey, had immediately turned the chance for him to pick the music into a competition. It was a battle of wits between the two of them, with Harvey finding more and more obscure sets and Ray trying to keep up. The driver took it as the closest thing to an admission of friendship he’d ever wrangle from him. On good days, Harvey would even follow up their question round by sharing work stories or bickering playfully with his driver about the Yankees’ lineup. The topics rarely got any more personal than that, but it never felt forced, either.

So on a gray and uninspiring Monday, he was surprised to see Harvey waiting for him with a cartoon grin. Only, as the man got in the back seat, Ray could tell that it was the genuine article. They made the usual exchange: a cup of coffee for a CD, and everything else seemed normal. But when he had rounded the corner and the player started the first track he nearly had to stop the car. Sinatra.

Harvey Specter listened to Sinatra for just three reasons:

      I.     he not only destroyed a dirty witness’ testimony during cross-examination, but ruined his/her reputation permanently

     II.     his brother called (only applicable to sub-clause II.1; otherwise Coltrane)

  1.     he called to say he saved his latest patient’s life
  2.     he mentioned their mother
  3.      he asked about Scottie (only happened twice)



   III.     he had amazing sex and was trusting the music to keep himself from bragging (he claimed to be a gentleman)

“Okay, boss, spill. You look like you just woke up from banging the entire US Women’s Gymnastics team. Probably the men, too.”

“Ray, you know I don’t break confidentiality with my bedfellows,” he dismissed before taking a sip of his coffee.

“Let me just say this: you’ve got the best damned sounding ‘no comment’ I ever heard,” Ray complimented, turning up the volume a couple blips.

“It’s not that Ray. I’ve just got a feeling that today is going to be a whole lot of fun,” he lilted while turning the page of the _Times_.

Ray knew better than to try the ‘press until it hurts’ method with his boss, so he let that go. The companionable silence between the two of them and Sinatra’s crooning was a beautiful combination. What could possibly spoil it?

Apart from the young guy in a fine-looking suit locking his bike up outside the building of Pearson Hardman, of course. Ray just didn’t get these young clowns. They mixed up everything. Biking to work in a suit? He probably ate his pizza with a knife and fork. The guy was standing up when Ray decided it was worthy of interrupting the newspaper.

“Harvey, get a good look at this nut. You ever see one of yours bike to work?” he asked as he pulled up in front of the skyscraper, turning to look at his boss.

He was expecting one of his boss’ trademark ninja smiles or an empty warning to not speak ill of strangers. Instead, Harvey just looked lost in thought. Ray had to tap him on the shoulder just to jolt him back to life.

“Thanks Ray, see you tonight,” Harvey fired off abruptly as he got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him.

“What happened to that great feeling?” he asked, now a bit worried. He considered calling Donna as he watched his boss enter the building, but thought better of it. No doubt she was already on it.

\-----

The briefcase felt thirty pounds heavier on Friday afternoon than it had the day before. It didn’t feel like an opportunity – it felt like a shackle. It felt like every stupid idea he’d ever had merged into one hideous object. It didn’t help that Trevor’s trendy loft on the Lower East Side was so close to the river. Mike had half a mind to toss the thing into the water.

Still, Jessica was right. He’d never be done with this part of his past until he faced up to the guy who had talked Mike into all this. Not just the pot, but the exam-taking, the card counting, all of it. If he didn’t cut his ties with Trevor, he’d just get dragged down into his shit all over again.

It was just – Mike didn’t know if he could. He was fairly sure that Trevor could sweet talk Bloomberg into handing him a cool million. Then again, if he could have managed that he would have tried it already. That was the thing about Trevor: he was devoid of shame. The only limit to what crimes he’d attempt or ‘enterprises’ he’d try was the boundary of his imagination. And unfortunately, his imagination was so large precisely because his best friend was a freaky genius.

Who told Trevor that he could remember perfectly the answers to every test he’d ever taken in his entire life? Mike. Who told Trevor about all the cons he’d learned from crime novels he read when he was little? Mike. Who taught Trevor what the word “bukkake” meant? Mike. Hell, he’d even told him it was a fetish of his.

So Mike was partly responsible for it, too. He’d turned Trevor into the monster that he was today, and he did it because he’d admired him. Whereas Mike was the bookish kid who dreamed big, Trevor was the cool kid who lived big. It wasn’t like there weren’t fringe benefits to it, either. Trevor treated his wingman well, whether it was his pick-up’s friend, or some strong ganja, or even just a place to crash for the night when he just wanted to play video games and not think about how lonely his existence had become. Trevor was the older brother he’d never had, and as fucked up as it sounded, Mike felt like he was betraying Trevor now.

Yeah. Chew on that, Euripides.

He nodded to the doorman and rode the elevator up to the fourth floor. Trevor’s building was nothing like Mike’s. Even his neighbors were better. They were yuppies with great careers who’d saved up money but hadn’t moved on to houses in the ‘burbs with room for their kids. Or else hip retirees who got sauced at brunch every Sunday. The stairwell didn’t even smell.

He rang the doorbell a couple of times, then checked his phone. _3:26 PM_. He was probably asleep or something. Whipping out his key, he unlocked the door and went inside.

The shades were up and the sunlight flooded Mike’s eyes. It took him a few moments to adjust until Chez Evans became visible to him. The abstract sculptures on the mahogany dining table, the Persian rugs thrown down at odd angles, a giant flat-screen television with six or seven game consoles parked in front of it, the stainless steel appliances and bottles of Perrier in the recycling bin.

Trevor recycled.

Mike burst out laughing every time he considered that. The idea of him caring about the environment was so ludicrous it was almost unfathomable. It was amazing how respectable one’s façade could be, considering the ugliness underneath.

Mike set down the briefcase in the foyer and called out Trevor’s name. No response. He headed back towards the bedroom and found it empty. It figures he wouldn’t be in the one time Mike absolutely had to speak to him. He checked the bathroom and the walk-in closet just to be sure.

Heading back out into the kitchen, he opened the door of the refrigerator and peered at what was on the menu. He settled on the least suspect takeout box, popping the beef and broccoli into the microwave. Hey, if he was going to dynamite their relationship, he might as well take what he could get. If it hadn’t been his closest friend he was breaking ties with, Trevor would have probably been proud of that philosophy.

While he waited, Mike looked around the living room again. When his eyes caught a certain picture he walked around the bartop counter and picked it up. It was a photo of the two of them when Mike was nine years old.

Mike had complained to Trevor that Grammy had signed him up for a summer program – something to keep him busy while school was out and she had to work. He’d hated it because he didn’t have any friends, and introvert that he was, couldn’t seem to make any. (How was he supposed to relate to them? He’d just finished reading _The Naked Lunch_ , for Christ’s sake.) Trevor had bugged his parents for days until they let him join so that Mike wouldn’t be alone. On August 9th, at 7:31 PM, Mike had promised that they’d be besties for life.

A tear slid down Mike’s cheek, and he quickly set the picture back on the shelf of the bookcase where it had stood. Forgetting the food in the microwave, he whipped his keychain out and struggled to rip Trevor’s key loose from the loop. It took entirely too long, and by the time he had finished he was sobbing. He tossed the key by the suitcase and fled the apartment, slamming the door behind him. He’d face Trevor some other time, or better yet, never.

\-----

From: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 6:28 AM

_Three guesses who fell asleep on his computer in the middle of the contract update for Reichert. You’ll need to BS the 8:30._

To: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Sent: 6:29 AM

_Tell me something I don’t know._

From: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 6:31 AM

_Jessica’s ass-ociate starts today. (See what I did there?) Let the storm of teasing and fault finding begin!_

To: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Sent: 6:37 AM

_Who has time to worry about that? I’m too busy being awesome. Ray’s pulling up – be in soon._

\-----

Visiting Grammy was probably Mike’s favorite thing in the world. Well, a few things could rival it. One was a stuffed-crust with just the right balance of rough exterior and gooey interior. Which, strangely enough, also described the consistency of a good, rigorous fuck – another one of Mike’s favorite things.

Grammy’s facility was thankfully anathema to thoughts of sex, so he didn’t have to work hard to push that last part out of his mind. This was one situation where he needed to have all his faculties. Grammy would run laps around him otherwise. He always had the sneaking suspicion that she had been an evil overlord in her youth.

He was looking forward to this visit in particular because it gave him the opportunity to tell her that she’d be out of this dump and receiving better care very soon. He’d hated not being able to do more for her before, and he didn’t want to think about what went on when he wasn’t around to look out for her. He’d glanced at articles blowing the whistle on elder abuse, but never had the heart to actually read them. He’d already lost so many people; he couldn’t entertain the thought of not having Grammy to go to for advice.

“Michael. You never come around this early. And what’s all this?” she asked, looking at his luggage. “You’re not leaving town, are you?”

“Actually, I guess I am,” he admitted, laughing.

The look on her face told him that she didn’t find that funny and that he’d better explain, ASAP.

“No, it’s a good thing. I got a job – a good one. They’re having me do some training in Boston.”

She quirked an eyebrow before replying, “What’s the job? And are you sure Boston is a good idea? I know how emotional you get about Harvard.”

“Funnily enough, that’s where I’m headed. I’m going to be working at one of the big firms – Pearson Hardman! Isn’t that sweet?” He didn’t bother to inform her of his exact position; he didn’t want to betray Jessica’s trust, even for the sake of being completely honest with Grammy.

“Oh? So I guess you won’t be able to stop by on Tuesday? I see how it’s going to be,” she said sadly, turning her head away from him.

“What!? Grammy – you know I’d never do that to you! How could you even-”

“Gotcha, kiddo. You’re still a fool for me,” Edith laughed. “So how are you going? Train? Bus?”

“No, that’s the best part. They comped a round-trip flight for me. It’s not first-class, but I wasn’t about to turn it down.”

“Michael,” she said, reaching out a hand to pat his cheek, “that’s wonderful! Your first time flying, a new job – I’m so glad things are coming together for you.”

“But wait, Grammy. It gets even better! They gave me a signing bonus and I’m using it to get you moved into that other care center. No more slumming it for you,” Mike said, hoping to see the excitement on her face.

“Michael, promise me you saved enough money for yourself. We’ve had this conversation before; I don’t want to be an anchor on your potential.”

“Grammy-”

“No, Michael.” She was closer to livid than pissed now. “You have so much talent, but you’ve let people walk all over you. Mostly Trevor. Especially Trevor.”

“I know, but-”

“No you don’t! I don’t want to be the guilt-tripping grandmother who uses the number of days she has left to force her way, but you’ve let me few options,” she said, daring him to argue. “I want to see you succeed, but you need to stand up for yourself.”

“You’ll be glad to know that my new boss sounds a lot like you, but a little meaner,” Mike joked, hoping to diffuse the seriousness weighing over them.

“Good,” she appraised, partially mollified. “Sometimes I think all you need is a hard kick in the ass,” Grammy said with a smile.

“Grammy!” Mike shouted, but he was smiling too much to fool anyone. He surveyed the room and noted the absence of a cafeteria tray. “Want me to grab some grub and we can have breakfast together?”

“That sounds wonderful, Michael.”

“And just for your information, Grammy, I still have plenty of money for myself. I even bought some suits.”

“Finally,” she said with a huff. “Mildred and Rebecca were beginning to tease me on how ragged my grandson looked in the house of the Lord.”

“Here I was going to see if I could sneak you some bacon. Looks like it’ll be nothing but an overripe banana and one of those dry apple muffins for you.”

Grammy shot him her best ‘just try it, punk’ look as she got up to retrieve the checkerboard.

When he got halfway down the hallway, Mike pulled out his phone and blocked Trevor’s number. It was more for Grammy than for him, but it felt right regardless.

\-----

Mike needed to hurry. Hurry hurry. Hurrying Mike needed. Needed more hurry.

That was the full extent of his thought processes as he rushed back into the building he’d left weeks earlier. So much so that he didn’t notice the middle-aged security guard until he’d literally thrown his outstretched palm in Mike’s face.

“Where do you think you’re going, babyface?”

“Pearson Hardman.”

“Ain’t never seen you before. Got your ID card?”

“It’s my first day! Jessica’s waiting for me.”

“I don’t wanna to crush your dreams, but I think she’s a little outta your league, kid,” he said, refusing to budge.

“Does she get everyone in on this stupid hazing?” Mike asked, mostly good-humored but a little frustrated.

“Hazing? I’m shocked, shocked at the very thought,” he said with a wink. “But howsabout this? I’ll let you go if you gimme a ‘Good Morning, Steve’ from now on. And don’t go sprinting around here – everybody’s got places to be. You might be Jessica’s guy but you ain’t special.”

“You got it, Steve.”

“Alright, Mr. Ross. Head on up. Don’t let me catch you without your building I.D. again.”

Mike glanced at his watch again and advanced towards the elevator bank, thankful that he still had something of a buffer. Still, how many more roadblocks had Jessica set in his path? Mike had a feeling she was going to enjoy toying with him for a while. Luckily, one opened up and he made to squeeze into it with the rest of the crowd of office workers.

Unluckily, a hand grabbed him by the forearm and pulled him back. He was vaguely aware of making a childish whining noise until he turned to see none other than the very same Harvey Specter. In addition to the offending hand pulling him away from the closing elevator doors, the man was also giving him a nearly hypnotic prying gaze. That shut Mike right up.

“I’ve seen you before.”

“Uhhh, yup. You sure have. By the way, can you let go of my arm?”

Harvey made no move to lessen his grip, instead dropping his head to inspect Mike’s suit. After a pause, he surmised, “Rene.”

“Umm,” Mike mumbled as he looked around. He couldn’t tell if everyone was too busy or too scared of this man, but evidently not one of them found the sight of a partner physically restraining an associate in the lobby surprising. It’s just rapine and physical force people, nothing to see here.

“What’s your name?”

“Mike Ross…uh, sir,” he answered. He meant for that last bit to sound respectful, but it came out cheeky. Damn his nerves.

“Uh-uh, don’t call me ‘sir’. My name is Harvey, but for now it’s Mr. Specter to you,” he corrected, still inspecting Mike’s garb. (For now? What the hell did that mean?)

Another elevator opened up, and just when Mike thought that it too would depart without him, Harvey pushed him inside. Apparently outstretched palms were the magic gesture in this building, because Harvey only had to do that with his other hand to keep anyone else from getting in with them.

Once he’d pressed the appropriate button and the doors had closed, Harvey released Mike’s arm. Somewhat frustratingly, though, he refused to back away at all.

“You got some splainin’ to do,” deadpanning on par with Buster Keaton.

It was the first time in Mike’s life he’d been aroused by _I Love Lucy_. Eh, scratch that. Ricky Ricardo could pull off a suit. Nowhere near as well as the man in front of him, though.

Wait, he should be saying something right about now.

“I’m Jessica’s new associate. Not much to add, really.”

“I figured that on my own kid. What I want to know is why the hell she hired you to begin with? What are you? Summa cum laude? Editor of the law review?” he tossed out mockingly.

“You’ll have to ask her that.”

Harvey became silent again and he turned around to press the emergency stop button. Mike swallowed so loud there was no way the other man could have missed it. He hadn’t even finished regretting that before he was lodged into the corner opposite the security camera, pinned by nothing more than the body heat of the man standing a scant two inches in front of him.

“Good answer, but she’s out for the day. I guess she wants you to learn how to deal with the sharks all by yourself,” he said, more than a few teeth showing in his smile.

“I’m mostly skin and bone. I doubt I’d make a tasty meal.”

“Only one way to find out. I’ll give you this – you look a whole lot better than you did the other day. But just so you know,” he paused as he grabbed the younger man’s tie and yanked it out of his jacket, his tie clip clattering to the floor, “if you were my associate, I’d make you open your mouth and swallow this.”

Two thoughts battled for dominance in Mike’s mind at that moment: (A) this was so far beyond sexual harassment it was ridiculous (and at a law firm, too) AND (B) Marie hit the nail on the head about that extra room in the crotch.

Mike knew he had to do something to end this, much as he wanted it to continue. So he said the only thing he could think of, no matter how dumb it sounded.

“Very subtle, Mr. Specter. Is this the welcome you give to all the new associates?”

Harvey smirked, dropping Mike’s tie and stepping away from him. The associate felt a chill over his entire body as the partner restarted the elevator’s upward climb. The remainder of the journey was blessedly brief – Mike scarcely had time to reach down and retrieve his tie clip before the doors wobbled open.

Awaiting them were two figures: Wendy and a black-haired guy Mike’s age standing with his arms folded. The man opened his mouth first.

“Mr. Specter, I just wanted to let you know that there’s no way Harold’s going to finish that contract you gave him yesterday on his own. If you want my help…”

“No thanks, Kieran.” His words were blasé, as if nothing had happened in the lift.

“It’s Kyle, sir,” Harvey hitched up slightly at that last bit. Mike would have smirked himself, but his body was still clumsy and unresponsive.

“Look Kevin. Harold’s mistakes are Harold’s mistakes, not your chance to get in good with me. If you don’t have any other work to do maybe you should take that as a sign and quit already,” he admonished.

The other man fled as soon as he was able, and Harvey started in the other direction. Just when Mike thought he could breathe, though, Harvey halted, about-faced, and looked right at him.

“Welcome to Pearson Hardman, _Mike_ ,” he taunted, the way he said his name so utterly lurid and filthy that even Wendy blushed. With that, he departed down the corridor.

Wendy said something when they were alone, but it was unintelligible.

Mike wasn’t listening. No – it wasn’t that he wasn’t. He couldn’t listen. For ten seconds he stopped functioning while his brain rebooted.

Rachel had been absolutely right. Harvey Specter was a sex tornado.

\-----

To: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Sent: 6:29 AM

_Please keep me informed of any noteworthy events that happen in the office while I’m out. Thanks._

From: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 6:32 AM

_Sure thing, boss._

_I mean, my boss’ boss._

_Mah bo-bo._

From: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 6:33 AM

_Sorry._

From: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 7:08 AM

_Am I fired?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jessica is queen of the universe, Harvey is emperor of the elevator (hint, hint).
> 
> A bit of housekeeping:  
> \- I'm aiming for most of the chapters to be the same length (~7500 words).  
> \- I've finished the drafts through chapter five, so I can promise you that the next few releases will be on time.  
> \- Because I've finished that many chapters, I can go ahead and warn you that there will be no earnest sexy time until chapter five; if that's what you came for you can skip the intermediary sections.
> 
> And a warning: I generally dislike Rachel on the show, but I'm doing my best to make her likable. Scottie is not getting the same pass.


	3. Day One

“Mike? Mike?” Wendy asked, clapping her hands.

The new associate finally snapped back into reality, focusing on her face. She wasn’t upset or worried, so he figured he was in the clear.

“Does he do that often?”

“Nope. I think you just made a new friend,” she said, winking. She motioned him forwards and she started up again as they walked to her desk. “He’s not a bad friend to have, not that you’ll be seeing much of him. The only partner who spends much time in the associate pool is…Louis. You’ll learn to pretend to get used to that,” she thought aloud.

“Sorry. It’s my first day and I’m already getting caught zoning out.”

“Well, not to worry. Jessica won’t be in today, so you have a little leeway to be human.” At that she flashed him a smile. “Jessica also had me send an email to Louis warning him that he could scold, insult, and berate you, but that if he gave you so much as a single subpoena to file he’d miss his next bonus.”

“Awesome, so I guess I’m getting a light load today?”

Wendy burst into laughter. She pointed to two massive stacks of paper on her desk. “The one on the left is yours. Those are briefs that need editing. The one on the right is mine. That’s the correspondence that came in between Friday night and this morning. When you work for Jessica Pearson, there are no ‘light load’ days, only days off. And you treasure those more than money,” she lectured, wagging a finger to stress the point.

Mike grabbed his share, discovering to his horror that it perfectly fit the space between his waist and the underside of his chin. “Okay, boss lady – lead the way to the torture chamber.”

“Mike, I’m just her assistant.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you still outrank me. But if you don’t like it, I’ll stop. I have a feeling you’ll be saving my ass more times than I really deserve.”

“Already have, but flattery will get you everywhere. Your cubicle is this way.”

As they moved on to the next hallway, they happened upon a crowd that even included a number of people he guessed were partners, all waiting to get a peek at him. How twenty people could pretend to be busily working while doing nothing but standing around was beyond Mike. Was he really all that interesting? Didn’t oil magnates and major athletes pass among these offices?

“John, Carol, David, c’mon people, get your asses to work,” Wendy shouted. “Do I have to make a list of who’s been naughty for when Ms. Pearson gets back?”

Okay, now Mike officially loved this woman. The herd of professionals scattered in the space of about ten seconds, and the rest of the walk to the associate pool was smooth sailing.

“This is you,” she said, pointing to the corner cubicle. It looked cold and sanitary, like a hospital room. There was a computer sitting on top of a broad, laminate-top desk. (He’d noticed that Wendy’s desk was some mock Louis XIV piece – he needed to ask her how long she’d worked for Jessica.) Beside the desk sat a chest of drawers and between the two there was the most generic black swivel chair he’d ever seen. Glad to be rid of them for a bit, he carefully dropped the stack of papers down.

“You’ll head down to the twenty-third floor at 10:00 to have your building I.D. made. I trust you already got to know Steve?” Miked nodded. “Wonderful. He’s a good guy, just like everyone else here.

“Oh, and your temporary password is ‘puppy’, all lowercase. If you need anything, just text my work phone.” He turned to hug her, but remembering the other associates he settled for a fist bump. She didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Alright, you saw all the stuff I have to get through, and there’ll be more coming in this afternoon. Best of luck, Mike,” she offered before heading back to her desk.

“Hi, Mike! I’m Harold,” said a friendly-looking curly blond from across the walking path. “I’m glad you’re here. Now I’m not the newest one anymore.” It could have come off as mocking, but Mike could tell he meant it innocently.

“Shut up, Harold.” The man in question jumped slightly in his chair. “Don’t you have a contract to finish?” It was the black-haired guy again. Kyle. Or Kevin. Or Kieran. Whatever his name was, he already sounded like a prick.

“Kyle, I’m just introducing myself. We’re going to be in this room together for a long time. We might as well get to know one another.”

“Yeah, whatever, lame-o. The point of being here isn’t to be nice. It’s to make money. There’s only one new partner every year, and it’s going to be me when I’m a fifth year.”

Seriously, who was this guy? Did he think he was on a game show?

“Don’t worry about the puppy thing, Mike. My password was ‘ferret’. I still can’t figure that out,” Harold said before returning his focus to his computer.

\-----

“Morning, boss.”

“Donna,” Harvey replied curtly, entering his office.

“Oh no you don’t,” Donna warned, following him inside. “One of your hairs is askew,” she said while continuing to inspect his appearance. “Your lapels are a bit scrunched. And you’re giving me the look that says, ‘Stop Donna-lyzing me already; I’m busy.’…Who did you manhandle in the elevator?”

Harvey opened his mouth, let it hang for a bit, and then shut it again, opting to sit down instead.

“Knew it! Hmm. It wasn’t Regina from Wills & Trusts, was it? You know she’s still taking medicine for the Chlamydia she got from Victor in Taxes, right?”

“I don’t even want to know how you know that,” Harvey said as he scanned his inbox.

“Please, what else are we going to write on the stalls in the ladies’ room? We knew all your” (she faked a cough here) “sizes the moment we started. You’re hung. Richard from Estates is adequate. Ethan from Private Equity is below average but makes up for it with remarkable stamina.”

Harvey blanched. “There’s no way you actually know any of that.”

“No, but your reaction confirmed the part about you, at least,” she said, lapsing into a maniacal laugh. “But seriously, boss, what’s up? You haven’t tried anything in the office for a while.”

“Donna, do you want a trip to _Hermes_ in the foreseeable future?” he said, busily assuring Jessica via email that, no, he wouldn’t pester her associate to keep him from his work.

“Yes, that’s why I booked a visit into your schedule for late July. I want to get my autumn look together before the commoners have their chance to tromp through the store. Speaking of tromping, did you see the crowd trying to get a peek at Jessica’s associate?” she asked as she stood to exit.

“It’s pathetic. Every time someone new gets hired, the circus comes to the office. He’s probably some loser, anyway.”

Donna seemed to buy that for the moment, but when she had reached the door she stopped and tossed the grenade.

“You know I’m friends with the people in charge of the security tapes, right?- including all the elevators.”

“There’s nothing to see.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t change the fact that you got fresh with Jessica’s associate – on his first day. We’ll be delving into this topic some other time. I’ll let you bask in the glow of the hunt. For now.”

As Donna resumed her seat, Harvey presented his offer to her over the intercom: “Fine. Have security delete that footage and I’ll buy you two bags at _Hermes_.”

“That’s all I'm asking.”

\-----

Mike found an envelope in the top drawer of his desk. Inside were two highlighters, a red pen, and a small slip of paper with the following note:

_Mike,_

_Best of luck getting settled in. If you’re not drowning by 1:00, let’s grab lunch._

_-Rachel_

\-----

Louis Litt was giddy.

He’d awaited this day like a Gentile awaited Christmas. Not that he knew anything about that – Rabbi Lippman had deemed all non-Jewish holidays as treif as a ham sandwich.

No, this was even better than five Hanukahs spent working at the office.

Jessica’s associate was just sitting out in the pool, going about his work without a care in the world. But that wouldn’t last long – that green idiot was about to experience the glorious misery of Pearson Hardman. By the end of the day he’d have left his pink slip on her desk or else he’d be wheeled out on a cart, wrapped in a straitjacket.

It was half-past eight when he decided to end the wait and rip out some associate spleen.

Before that, though, he’d stop by and share his wonderful mood with Donna. She’d really appreciate it, he was certain.

He approached her desk as quietly as he could, and once there, he waited in perfect silence. Donna wouldn’t acknowledge him if he was so presumptuous as to announce his own presence.

“Louis.”

“Donna,” he said with forced composure. But he was too excited to keep that up. Throwing restraint to the wind, he jumped right into what he wanted to say. “Jessica’snewassociateishereandI’mgoingtoscaretheshitoutofhim!”

“Gesundheit.”

“Donna, this day comes so rarely. I thought I’d have to find satisfaction berating Harold, but that’s been like trying to get sloths to race.”

“Louis, you have so many passions. Why do you have to take it all out on the associates? You could berate the actor who plays Sebastian in the new production of _Twelfth Night_ , or the understudies in _Don Giovanni_ , or that prodigy ballerina they brought over from Moscow.”

“She’s a worthless sham! She doesn’t even know how to switch from fifth to second position properly!” he shouted, demonstrating the maneuver for no one in particular.

Donna looked up briefly, staring at him. Turning back to her computer, she continued, “Okay, Louis. Go ahead and let loose on the newbie. You clearly need to vent and I don’t want to be responsible for bottling you up until you explode.”

“So I have it – your seal of approval?”

“No, Louis. You absolutely do not have my seal of approval. In anything you’ve ever done. Or will do,” she said over the clattering of her fingers on the keyboard. She made no further comment and refused to acknowledge him again.

Dejected, he turned away from Donna’s desk. Never had her words stung quite so sharply, and on an otherwise grand occasion. He was going to make that newbie pay for what he’d made Louis say to upset Donna. It just wasn’t right!

As he waltzed into the pool he watched proudly as all the associates ducked their heads away from him. He was not a mortal man in this, his domain; nay, he was Hyperion, the blazing sun that blinded all those beneath Him.

All bowed, except for a bit of blond fluff at the end of the column. That must be him. As he drew closer he made a startling discovery.

“You?! Why are you here? Where’s Jessica’s associate?”

The kid wasn’t even listening. He had headphones in. As if he did not know that such things were forbidden in Louis’ land.

“You will listen to me when I am speaking to you!” he bellowed. He heard the ambient noise of far off receptionists’ voices halt. Harold’s chair sailed clear into the wall behind him.

Louis still had it.

The kid looked up and stared at him. He lazily removed his earbuds and said without a hint of guilt, “Morning Louis.”

“Don’t you have private deliveries to make?” As he asked the question he wondered how he’d missed the innuendo two weeks earlier. Was this kid Jessica’s callboy?

“Nope, I’m just working on the briefs she gave me.”

“No goddamned way. You are not her associate-” Louis stopped and narrowed his eyes. He pushed his face right into the kid’s face. “Are you wearing one of Rene’s suits?”

“Yup. Look, I’m sorry that Jessica didn’t give you a picture or something. I really thought she’d have sent around my bio before I got here,” he replied with a nervous hand to the back of his neck.

Louis couldn’t even process that. He drew back and threw his hands above him, strangling the air. Recalling Norma’s story about her uncle who died of a rage-induced heart attack, he calmed himself and adjusted his tie. That done, he returned his focus to (apparently) Jessica’s associate.

“Listen you little shit. You were granted a reprieve for today – God alone knows why. But that’s only today. Starting tomorrow, I will bury you in work. Each and every day you will find enough tasks to exhaust ten associates.” He took a moment to drag his index and middle fingers between their eyes, finishing, “You’re done here.”

“Son, your ego is writing checks your body can't cash,” the kid offered quietly as a reply.

What was that supposed to mean?

He stormed off. An hour later, he was still trying to find the right soothing nature sound on his noise machine. Maybe he didn’t have it anymore.

\-----

Louis didn’t notice Harvey ball up a scrap of paper and pitch it straight towards the back of his head as he walked away from Donna’s desk. But for the glass partition, it would have been a bulls-eye.

Harvey waited until Donna left for lunch to retrieve it.

\-----

Mike made sure to find a stopping place as the appointed lunch hour drew nearer. After Louis left, everyone in the associate pool wanted to bug Mike and ask how he could be stay so cool under pressure. It made each and every page of edits take twice as long as it should have.

Ironically, he’d learned that skill from Trevor, who seemed to make as many enemies as friends. The worst Louis had was his words and some extra work. Moreover, Louis had managed to get a J.D. from Harvard. That meant he was smart, but it also meant that he wasn’t crazy. In terms of inspiring fear, a sane man shouting his words had nothing on a mentally unsound addict thrusting a knife at your throat as you walked through the door of your best friend’s apartment unaware. (He cringed at that memory.)

The thought of missing out on another elevator ride with _Mr. Specter_ was also pretty good motivation. The scant moments of pleasure he got just anticipating round two was enough to make all the pain Louis could cause moot. A few more times being trapped in the corner of that elevator and he’d happily sign a thirty-year contract with Jessica Pearson.

He’d forbidden himself from actually replaying the scene earlier, knowing that he’d get absolutely nothing done if he did. As Mike gazed over at the amount of stuff he’d cleared out, though, he decided a reward was due. He had just reached the moment his tie clip hit the floor when Rachel appeared in front of his desk.

“You look awfully pleased for a guy who got yelled out by Louis. Most associates end up needing a little sob time in the bathroom their first day.”

“I’m not just any associate,” he said, leaning in closer with a dumb grin. “And you’re ‘The Paralegal’, after all.”

She giggled and swatted the back of his head lightly. He mimed a grievous injury before standing to join her.

“So, there’s a great Moroccan place. Do you think you’ll have enough time to head out or should we just order in?”

Mike looked back and figured he’d be alright to go out. There were no windows in the room and it might get disorienting if he didn’t see sunlight soon.

“Great!” she said, predicting his answer. “There’s one other little thing: is it alright if Harvey’s assistant joins us? She knows everybody else here, so she’s itching to meet you.”

“Uhm, that sounds fine.” It wasn’t fine. At all. Mike’s brain sketched out a million scenarios. Was she going to apologize for her boss’ conduct and beg him not to file a complaint? Or was she going to see if he was into it? As if it hadn’t been obvious in the moment that he was totally, all-cylinders-firing into it.

Mike got the sense that lunches with Rachel were never going to be as easy as she made them out to be.

“Perfect. C’mon, she’s waiting by the elevators.” Mike wondered if he even could’ve said no to her tagging along if he’d wanted.

Sure enough, there was a tall, pale redhead holding an elevator for them when they arrived. She was looking intently at Mike. He felt like he was under a microscope.

“Hi, Mike. I’m Donna,” she said, holding out her other hand. She shook like a dude.

“Hi Donna. Rachel’s told me you two are buddies.”

“Oh, we’re just a couple of silly gals. I’m actually really looking forward to getting to know you, though,” she said ominously as the doors closed behind them.

\-----

Harvey was deep in thought, trying to figure out how to manipulate a loophole in his client’s employment contract when he heard a knock on the glass. Donna was still out. Jessica was gone for the day. Louis never knocked. That only left…

Sure enough, when Harvey looked up, he saw his rookie associate waiting patiently, his eyes trained on the ground.

“Come in, Harold.”

The door had been the only dam to a flood of nonsense.

“I’m very sorry about the delay on this, Mr. Specter. It won’t happen again. It’s just that I was so tired last night. I’ve been taking care of my friend’s cactus and my nerves are wracked. If it was a dog or something at least I’d know if I was doing things wrong, but it just sits there.”

Harvey took a moment to consider that. He hated excuses, but Harold’s were so bizarre or humiliating that they couldn't possibly be lies.

“Harold, when I set a deadline, I mean it. Look, I was able to keep the client from getting upset, but it can’t happen again.”

“Yes, Mr. Specter. Sorry, Mr. Specter.”

“Stop apologizing. Have you ever seen me apologize?”

“No, Mr. Specter.”

“Do you think I apologize for anything?”

“No, Mr. Specter. Except,” he paused, hesitating to say what was obviously on his mind. “Except for when Ms. Pearson beats you.”

Harvey grinned internally – the kid had potential. “I’m undefeated, Harold. Regardless, you should be asking how you can make it up to me.”

“Yes, Mr. Specter. What can I do for you?”

Harvey pushed a folder on the side of his desk towards his associate. “Pro bono. You’ll take the lead on this, but if Jessica or Wendy asks, you know nothing about it. Got that?”

“Yes, Mr. Specter,” he replied, but made no move to get up.

“Is there a problem?”

“Well, it’s just that…I wonder if you’re okay? You look a little off today.”

Oh, for- dumb luck, it had to be. Harvey Specter’s poker face was impregnable to everyone except Donna. He swiveled his chair around to face the city, reclining as he did.

“I’m perfect, kid. But you’re way out of line for asking something like that – especially after your screw-up this morning. Don’t let it happen again.”

“I’m very s-…I’ll get on this pronto, Mr. Specter. No more mistakes, I promise,” Harold assured as he stood up and practically flew out of Harvey’s office.

“That’s not entirely true. Way out of line is making a move on someone else’s rookie on his very first day,” Harvey said, still gazing out as the clouds slowly blocked out the sun.

Harvey got up and walked out to Donna’s still-abandoned desk. He entered her password and opened the program she used to make his schedule. Sure enough, he found blocks of time set aside for boxing for the next few mornings. He was agitated and over-energized; much as he hated to admit it, he knew he wasn’t going to burn it off the way he wanted for a little while yet.

Just like always, she knew it, too.

\-----

“So Mike, tell me all about Harvard. What were your favorites classes? Did you get along with your fellow classmates?” Donna asked as she spooned up some of her lentil soup.

Lunch with just Rachel was a test, but a fair one. Lunch with Donna was a test conducted by St. Peter (or worse, Grammy) – you got the sense that you couldn’t fool her.

“Con law was one of the more challenging courses. I think it was the professor. He spoke only as loudly as he wanted and you had to make do. That’s probably why I liked it,” he lied with a false grin. He was actually remembering the next-door neighbor he’d had for four years.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve heard awful things about him. Maybe by the time I get in he’ll have retired,” Rachel piped in (praise the Lord!) between bites of her mrouzia.

“Rachel, you can’t think like that. You’re going to send in your application this time around and you’re going to get in.”

“I know Donna, it’s just-”

“Rachel has a serious case of nerves about applications and entrance exams,” Donna explained. “By the way, you didn’t answer my second question. You don’t seem like the typical recent Harvard grad; you’re not douchey enough.” The woman didn’t let up.

“Yeah, it wasn’t always easy with my peers. I didn’t come from money.”

“Could’ve fooled me. How much did that suit cost? It almost looks like one of Rene’s.”

“It is, actually. Jessica basically demanded I update my wardrobe.”

“You should’ve seen what he was wearing the first time he came to the office. He had the lovable tramp look down,” Rachel said, smiling as Mike shot her a dirty look. “But that was his ‘disguise’.”

“Disguise?” Donna asked, obviously intrigued.

“Yeah, what was it you said Mike? You never wear the same disguise twice?”

“That was a joke, Rachel!”

“You’re not like the rest of your colleagues and you wear disguises. Why, Mike Ross – I wonder how many sides of you we’ve yet to witness,” Donna said, looking down as she stirred her soup.

“But with Jessica as his boss, we might never see them. How many briefs did she give you to review? And on your first day, too.”

“Fifty-seven. Is that a lot?”

Rachel and Donna both shot him incredulous looks.

“Mike, that’s probably how many Louis gave out to all the other associates combined. Jesus, no wonder Jessica hired you,” Rachel said.

“I’m just a fast reader, that’s all. I’ve always been into books,” he said, hoping he hadn’t just blown his cover. Or worse – got stuck doing everyone else’s extra work.

“Honey, please,” Donna cut in, “there’s a world of difference a good trashy romance novel and legalese. ‘The first party objects to the second party’s interpretation of the third subclause of the seventh clause of the second addendum of the first party’s claim to’ blah blah blah,” Donna said, waving her arms but mindful of the other diners around her. “That’s why I stick with snarky intra-office memos.”

“Yeah, but you don’t make what Mike’ll make,” Rachel said smugly.

“Are you kidding me? I could guilt trip my way to a two-week vacation anywhere on the planet. But then I wouldn’t be the best-damned assistant in the city. I also get to go home at 6:30 sharp, no matter how long my boss has to stick around,” she fired back.

“Uh huh. You’re allowed to go home at 6:30. But I’ve never seen you leave before 7:30 unless you had a date or something.”

“You’re not married?”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Mike? Did you miss the lack of a ring on the hand I was using to hold the elevator while shaking yours?” Donna asked.

“It’s just, you’re so gorgeous. I figured guys would be throwing themselves at you constantly,” Mike said innocently.

“Hear that, Rachel? He complimented me on my looks and didn’t immediately turn it into a pick-up. You were right; he’s definitely on the gay end of the pool,” she said, turning to her companion. “And just because I said that doesn’t mean you should stop commenting on my stunning beauty,” she winked at Mike.

“Hey, we’re all allowed to swim in the pool together,” Mike shot back, laughing.

“If you can keep Louis out of our swimming pool, you’re welcome any time,” Rachel said before shuddering.

“Amen, sister,” agreed Donna, and they clinked their glasses of water together. “Oh, and heads-up, Mike. You might not get on his good side after today, but if he ever invites you to ‘go mudding’, just say no.”

Rachel nodded and added her own look of warning.

“So, if I can ask another question, how long have you two been working at Pearson Hardman?”

“Uh oh, Rachel. Now he’s trying to figure out our age. Guard your secrets with this one,” she said, pointing at him.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant!”

“Five years, Mike,” Rachel said, hiding a chortle behind her napkin.

“Ten for me. Though I wish she had been around for as long. We met when Rachel was still green.”

“So you’ve been Harvey’s assistant-”

“Oh, even longer than that. But yes, I’m stuck to him. I’m practically his twin sister now; well, the twin sister that knows how to keep him in line,” she said, cracking an imaginary whip with her arm.

“Of course she won’t share her the blueprints of the man with anyone else,” Rachel said, giving mad side-eye.

“It’s a trade secret. Well, Jessica knows how he operates, too. After all, she was the one who brought him into the firm.”

“Huh?”

“She didn’t tell you that already? What on earth did you talk about during the interview? I figured she’d want to brag about him any opportunity she got,” Rachel wondered aloud.

“The transcript is probably lying around somewhere. With your research and my filing skills, Rachel, we should be able to find it,” Donna said. Mike felt a little queasy at that prospect. “Of course, maybe it’ll become one of the Legendary Documents of Pearson Hardman. Like the file Jessica and Daniel used to get the old partners to relinquish control.”

“What I wouldn’t give to get a glimpse of that,” Rachel said longingly. “There’s a lot of Pearson Hardman history we need to catch you up on, Mike. You shouldn’t have to go around like some pet, loyal but oblivious.”

No, I shouldn’t be feeding you and everyone else the steaming pile of lies that I am, Mike thought. He wondered how long his conscience would be out on moral holiday and how long Jessica figured he could maintain it all.

Donna discreetly drew her phone from her purse. She glanced at it, rolling her eyes and sending a couple of quick texts. She turned to face the others, suggesting, “We should think about heading back, you two.”

“Yeah, Mike especially. You’ll be lucky to finish by start of business, Thursday. At least, that’s about the time that I’d be completing that insane task,” Rachel said. “Let me just go powder my nose.”

As Rachel disappeared into the back of the restaurant (how many conversations did that woman miss on account of her bladder?), Donna placed her hand on Mike’s forearm and cleared her throat.

“Mike, Harvey didn’t put me up to this, and I really do want to get to know you. That said, I want to apologize for what happened this morning.”

Mike wasn’t entirely shocked, and she must have read that on his face.

“You’ve been expecting this, haven’t you? Impressive. I think I’m going to like you. Anyway, just say the word and I’ll slap him on your account. Or if you’d prefer, I could come up with some excuse to give you that chance?”

“Oh, no. I don’t think any of that’s necessary.”

“You sure? It wouldn’t affect our budding friendship…”

“No. I actually-” Mike said, stopping himself. It was his first day and he couldn’t get caught up in some juvenile drama.

Donna obviously caught the direction of that sentence, but she simply smiled and nodded, withdrawing her hand. A moment later Rachel reappeared, and after a little fighting over the check (Mike paid, he had the money and wasn’t afraid to _insist_ – he had a Catholic grandmother, after all), they walked back to the office.

\-----

By noon, Norma had walked into Louis’ office and told him to either put his anger to productive use or just stop pretending like he was going to accomplish anything and head home. Maybe it was what she said, or maybe it was the paisley tangerine pashmina she kept trying to pull off despite Louis’ repeated and vociferous objections, but Louis found a second wind nonetheless.

He wasn’t done with Mike, as he’d learned the kid’s name was, but the greater defeat would be letting his words allow Harvey to surpass his billables. So he channeled that rage into one of the cases he’d tossed on the back burner.

Some asshole banker was trying to nickel and dime a charitable fund. Louis, in addition to being the eternal enforcer of the associates, was also a financial wizard. He’d figured out the woman was up to her eyeballs in debt despite a seven-figure income; it was largely the result of a wasteful husband who’d made philanthropic contributions in his ennui.

Of course, he felt absolutely no sympathy for her. It wasn’t that she was stealing from impoverished families living in food deserts in the South Bronx. Sure, that’d piqued him. But what really riled him up was that Jessica had said ‘sick ‘em’. At the end of the day, Louis was Jessica’s Rottweiler, and he wasn’t ashamed of that. That was his greatest motivation: he got nothing from the look of gratitude on a client’s face. Today’s client was tomorrow’s target, at least in his mind. No, it was the satisfaction of knowing that despite the petty jabs and accusations Jessica (and Harvey) tossed his way, they needed and respected his abilities. They’d never admit it, but the three of them knew the bond was there.

His wound partly salved, he rang up the banker’s attorney. He was going to collect a spleen today, and if it wasn’t going to be Mike’s, it’d just have to be this rent-a-counselor’s.

“Hello, Mr. Bradley. I’d just like to let your client know that she’s going to be doing seven-and-a-half to fifteen unless she agrees to replace everything she took, with twenty-five percent interest. Oh yeah, and she makes a personal apology to the director of the charity she was supposed to be assisting.”

He paused as he listened to the worm’s pathetic attempt at a comeback. Defamation of character. As if he hadn’t seen that claim coming a year ago.

“The only one committing slander here is you. She’s an ‘upstanding citizen’? Only if by that you mean that she’s standing up in a pile of money that doesn’t belong to her.

“How about this? You go ahead and remind her that her no-good husband is going to divorce her sleazy, bottom-dealing ass about five seconds after she’s arraigned. And he will demand half of whatever she’s got. Oh, and her account in the Caymans? Yeah, I’m going to have that frozen before I leave for the day.”

Louis was impressed. The ASU Law grad actually attempted a second parry.

“That’s ‘illegal’, you say? I’ve got news for you, punk. When you deal with Louis Litt you play by his rules because he Makes. The. Goddamn. Rules.”

He still didn’t feel completely vindicated, but the money was wired back into the charity’s account by 4:30. How the banker could afford to do so he neither cared nor bothered to figure out.

\-----

When Mike returned to his station after lunch, he found that the hazing wasn’t nearly finished. The first thing that stood out was a paper cup filled with a smelly, brown liquid with a consistency somewhere between pond water and motor oil. Even after he’d dumped it out in the toilet and disposed of the cup, his desk still smelled foul.

The other gag had been his desktop image. Instead of the plain blue background he’d had when he left, his computer now defaulted to a Nordic woman with her head buried in an African woman’s crotch. He rolled his eyes at that, turning to see the two guys on the other end of the pool snickering. Devon and Jeffrey were as infantile as Kyle was greedy.

He pulled up his internet browser and typed a few words into Google. He scrolled for a bit and settled on an image, ending the reign of the interracial lesbians (or maybe they were just curious?) almost as soon as it had begun. He also remembered to reset his password. The great thing about an eidetic memory was that he could remember streams of random numbers…but only when they didn’t matter. Passwords were like his phone – he had to keep them simple. He settled on ‘grammyscookies’.

A half hour later, Donna walked into the pool. He noted that her presence inspired just as much fear as Louis’, though he figured it was because she knew exactly how much shit they gave Harold. She signaled Mike to step away from his cubicle while she spritzed it with Febreeze. He saw Harold flash him a quick smile, so at least she didn’t have super smell. Or rather, it was a little less likely that she did.

Once satisfied that his desk no longer stank, she turned to him and said, without any noticeable sarcasm, “Nice panda.”

He pulled out his phone and made a note to buy her coffee someday soon.

\-----

From: Wendy (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 7:28 PM

_Hey Mike._

_In case nobody else told you, good job today! Godspeed with the rest of your briefs. Meeting w/ the Boss tomorrow @ 8:15 (AM)._

\-----

Mike had no idea how long he’d been working. He’d been measuring time in the number of briefs remaining in the ‘in’ pile. He hadn’t even bothered to check that in a while. He just really wanted to finish up and go home. Thankfully, now that the other associates had filed out of the office, he could dive into hyper concentration mode, knocking out page after page.

So when the music suddenly came to a halt, he looked up, expecting to see the dreaded hallmark of an empty battery: the chortling little white apple. Instead, he saw a hand lying on his iPod, the headphone cord skidding back towards the edge of the desk. Mike jerked back – that wasn’t anyone’s hand. That was Jessica’s hand.

Sure enough, when he looked up, he saw her leaning on the partition between his work area and the walkway through the associates’ pool. He had half enough sense to yank the earbuds out and set them aside.

“Why are all the new associates so skittish? Who would ever be scared of me?” she hummed, flicking through the folders stacked in the ‘out’ pile.

“Jeez. You could give a guy a little warning.”

“Why? Do you think opposing council will dial you up before a meeting to tell you they found the memo they needed to kick your ass?” she asked, still looking for something.

Mike looked around and saw the time on his computer: _1:47_.

“Jessica, I thought you were out for the day. What are you doing here?”

“I’d be a pretty heartless mentor to not even make a single appearance on your first day, Mike,” she said, reaching for one of the briefs. “Ah. What did you think of this one?” she asked, handing it to him.

Mike opened the cover and scanned it over again, trying to separate it from all the other ones he’d edited. The amount of typos he’d fixed today was astounding – somewhere in this office there was an agitated spider monkey doing a hell of an impersonation of a junior partner. It probably had a little suit and a miniature coffee mug, too, complete with the words ‘Chugging Away’ painted on the side.

Mike’s imagination got weird when he was tired.

“You really want to hear my opinion?”

“No, Mike. My doctor recommended I have at least five bullshit conversations a day."

“Easy on the sarcasm, it’s not good for your health,” he joked, not bothering to check her reaction. “Let’s see. This one. Oh yeah, the client looks crazy guilty. Not only that, but his case is weaksauce. Who even agreed to take this guy on as a client?” Mike asked, turning back to his boss.

“I did. He’s my ex-husband.”

“Oh, I-”

“If the next word out of your mouth is ‘sorry’, don’t. If I wanted someone to nod along and agree with me I’d have asked one of those drones,” she said, motioning to Devon and Jeffrey’s cubes. “But I’m not dropping him, either.”

“Will I be-”

“Yes, you’ll start on his case in earnest tomorrow.”

“Understood. Well, I’m still alive and I’ve got one more brief to finish. Is the checkup over?”

“No. Come with me to my office. I need to give you something.” She pushed off the partition and headed off in that direction, so Mike made to do the same. As he did, he felt the ache in his neck and nearly face-planted, his legs still tingling from the sudden movement after hours of stillness. The title to a certain Sade song flashed in his mind.

By the time he got to his boss’ office, the light was already on and she was busily opening an oversized manila envelope. He glanced around and spotted a trolley with an antique tea set. It clashed badly with modern theme of the other furniture in the room. Was she going for a reverse Louvre Pyramid vibe? Turning back to face her, he caught the back of a picture frame emerging from the envelope.

“Congratulations, kid,” she said, a wry smile on her face. “You’re now an alumnus of Harvard Law. Only magna cum laude, but I don’t think you’d have had the work ethic for summa.”

“Hey! Who stayed behind until nearly 2:00 AM finishing up work? On his first day?”

“I wouldn’t call what you were doing ‘work’. More like housekeeping,” she sniped, still appraising the bogus diploma.

“So that’s what I’m going to be doing here – cleaning up other people’s messes?”

“That’s what this whole place is all about, Mike,” she replied, but there was no irritation in her voice. “And no, I won’t make you do baby chores every day. That would be a waste of your talent. The point of that exercise was to demonstrate to you that I can make you do what I want, when I want. And to see whether you can put up with it.”

“Well, I guess I passed.”

“So far,” she jabbed, letting out a sigh afterwards. “Mike, have you already figured out who my first associate was?”

“Harvey, right? Am I going to be living in his shadow for the rest of my working life?”

“Harvey’s first week – now there’s a blast from the past,” she said, leaning back into her chair and tilting her head up. “He cried like a bitch. Not just once, either. I had to give him pep talk after pep talk,” she chuckled, shaking her head.

“What?!”

“It’s true. But I was glad. Not about him being so damned temperamental, mind you” she said with a sideways glance. “No, I was glad that he could share his concerns with me; that he wasn’t so worried about trying to impress me that he got himself tangled up in a mess I couldn’t fix. I kind of miss those days, headaches though they were.”

Mike mouth hung open. He’d never been one to fall for hype, but he couldn’t imagine one of the inner circle screwing up or Jessica putting up with it.

“Kid, you’re competent, but if you don’t admit your limits you’ll end up burning out. I’m letting you dip your toes first.”

“By not being around for 99% of the day? Because that felt a whole lot more like being pushed off the diving board.”

“Really? The others were that bad? Mike, if you need help taking on Kyle and Louis then you really don’t belong here,” she replied, and they both laughed in unison.

“I’m a busy woman, Mike,” she continued. “I can’t hover, and if you were honest with yourself you’d admit that you like it better this way. Now take your degree,” she said, handing it to him, “and stash it in one of your drawers. That’s what the other associates do, at least until they have an office in which to hang it.”

“Okay, boss.”

“I’ve also taken care of having your information inserted into the digital records. I’ll see about sneaking a hard copy into the record room, but that’s not an immediate concern.”

“Wait, is all of that why you weren’t in today?”

“Are you kidding me? I took care of that by 8:00 AM. I spent the rest of the daylight hours bringing in another fifteen million in billings. I am Jessica Pearson, after all.”

“Right. I should never have doubted your abilities.”

“Damn straight. Now drop that thing off and meet me out front. I’ll call you a cab.”

“But I biked to work today.”

“Yes, Mike. And it’s raining now,” she said as though explaining precipitation to a third-grader. “And you’ll take a cab tomorrow morning, as well, so you can bring in an extra suit and leave it in the wardrobe by Wendy’s desk. I can’t have you missing meetings because a client splashed your jacket with his Chicken Kiev at lunch.”

“I get to sit in on meetings and have lunch with clients?” he asked, really hoping it hadn’t been sarcasm.

“I told you before that there are rewards for following orders. Though it’ll depend on the client. I have a feeling some of them might get distracted with you in the room,” she chuckled. “Now hurry up – it really is 2:00,” she warned as she checked her watch. The thing was platinum-plated.

As Mike hurried back to his cubicle, he dropped his ‘diploma’ in the bottom drawer and reached for the last brief.

“Leave it, Mike. You got through fifty-six of those in eighteen hours, minus your break. You can save that one for tomorrow.”

“You knew exactly how many there were?”

She raised an eyebrow.

“The Heffenpfeuff brief really only counts as half an assignment, though. Louis did that one, so there probably weren’t many typos.”

“Is that the reason you keep him around?” Mike asked as he quickly followed her to the elevators.

“That and the billables. It’s all about the billables, Mike,” Jessica answered as they stepped into the lift.

“You listen to Puff Daddy?”

Frustratingly, she didn’t answer.

When they got to the main door, Jessica waited until Mike had opened his umbrella and held it out for her. There was still something he needed to know, though, and the curiosity grew as they drew closer to her towncar.

“Good morning, Mr. Ross,” Keith said with a nod as he got out of the driver’s seat and went to open the door for Jessica.

“Morning, Keith. Sorry for making you stay up just to ferry Her Majesty so she could confirm my continued existence.” Keith laughed, but Jessica gave Mike another sideways glance.

As Jessica got in, the need to know overcame him. “Wait, Jessica, can I ask you something?”

“Isn’t that what you were doing for the past fifteen minutes?” she scoffed, looking over to him as she buckled her seatbelt.

Jessica Pearson buckles up. It shouldn’t have inspired as much humor as it did, but Mike filed it under future joke material anyway.

“Do you really want me to succeed?”

“Mike, what’s the first rule of being a lawyer?” she asked in return. The horn of the waiting cab reminded him of the urgency of the situation.

“Don’t ask a question unless you already know the answer,” he replied, and she looked somewhat pleased. Mike stepped back so Keith could shut the door, but as the driver walked back to his seat, he remembered something else. “But wait, this isn’t trial. We’re only in discovery.”

The window rolled down and a smiling Jessica flipped the bird at him. He still didn’t have a reply ready as the towncar sped off into the faint darkness of a rainy Midtown morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some good news for those of you getting impatient for a more *physical* encounter between the two leads. Chapter 4 ends on a rather irritating cliffhanger, so I'll upload Chapter 5 the Thursday of next week as a bonus.
> 
> Question: Do people like the texts, or are they becoming overdone? I have more in later chapters, and I think it's the only realistic way some of these conversations could take place, but I could remove them if you're getting annoyed.
> 
> Edit: Oh, and this past week's episode sniped me on one of the aspects of the storyline. I'm going to leave it in regardless.


	4. Crack in the Armor

To: Harvey (212-XXX-XXXX)

Sent: 5:43 PM

_E. 4 th & 2nd Ave._

_Rachel and I are off to the party. If I see you there I’ll know you’re really desperate for Ross’ hiney. :-P_

\-----

A certain book Mike read once when he was four informed him that the most difficult portion of any endeavor wasn’t the first but the second day. As he awoke after a little under five hours of sleep on Tuesday, he had a sneaking suspicion that author knew what he was writing about. He was secretly glad Jessica made him take a cab, although trying to maneuver with both the garment and messenger bags ruined much of the enjoyment.

He made sure to say hello to Steve on his way in, and in return the man ordered the other workers to give him some extra room in the elevator. By the time he had hung the extra outfit in the wardrobe and made his way to his boss’ office, he was feeling a bit better. There was still a bit of throbbing at the back of his head, but it was manageable.

What wasn’t manageable, or even fair, was how good his boss looked. She was utterly radiant as she drank her tea. She did a startlingly good Cleopatra without much effort. Considering how ruthless the woman was, maybe Catherine de’ Medici was the better comparison.

Wendy was busy listing who had called and emailed overnight and why to her boss. He checked his watch again. It was 8:16.

“Late,” Jessica said in between sips of tea.

“Ah, sorry-”

“Sit down and join the conversation. And don’t let it happen again – especially not on a court date.”

“Right.”

“As I was saying,” Wendy cut in, although she sounded glad to have more company, “you and Mike have your visit with Mr. Evers scheduled for 9:00. I went ahead and confirmed with his office an hour ago. After that, Ms. Pearson, it’s a parade of clients, old and new – your penance for not coming in yesterday.” Wendy looked up at her boss with a grin.

“I’ve no idea what you’re getting at, Wendy. Meetings with clients are a delight to every partner.”

“You’re absolutely right, Ms. Pearson. If there’s nothing else, I’ll get back to planning the holiday party.”

“There’s a holiday party?” Mike asked. He didn’t believe these people stopped working long enough to celebrate. They’d probably just feel guilty about all the business they were missing. “Do the associates bring you in on a sedan chair?”

“Yes and no, Mike. I wouldn't even attend them, but I couldn't trust Harvey or Louis not to kill someone in their crossfire if I wasn’t around to corral them.”

“Oh.” He didn’t think she was exaggerating.

“Speaking of which,” she said with a glint, “your rookie dinner is scheduled for Thursday, next week. You do know what that entails?”

“Sweet. You guys are taking me out to dinner?”

Wendy quickly buried her face in her pile of notes, and he had the sinking suspicion he was way off with that hopeful guess.

“Other way around, Mike. You’ll pay for the honor of taking all your colleagues out for dinner. Well, almost all. I never attend these things myself. The last one I went to was like that Congressional Black Caucus gala I spent $25,000 to attend. I had the misfortune of being seated next to a certain ‘media mogul’.” She shook her head. “Woman didn’t have an off button.”

“I’m not going to be spending twenty-five grand, am I?”

“No, but expect a bill somewhere around eight thousand. Maybe more: I got the sense that Louis might try to punish your wallet. By the way, quoting _Top Gun_? Good choice, but Louis isn’t exactly a film connoisseur. With him, I’d stick to opera and theater.”

“How did you-”

“I have my sources.”

“I don’t suppose you have any suggestions for the venue?”

“You’re the native New Yorker, Mike.” She gave him a moment to consider that before resuming, “Now go get the appropriate case information and meet me in front of the building. We wouldn’t want to be late for two meetings in one day, would we?”

As Mike made for the associate pool, he heard the voice that had been playing on a loop before he fell asleep the night before. Drat.

“Good work, Harold. This almost makes up for your slip-up yesterday.”

“Thank you, Mr. Specter.”

Mike was hoping he could sneak in, grab the folder, and disappear without being noticed. Unfortunately, he learned firsthand that Harold could be an air raid siren if the whole lawyer thing didn’t work out.

“Morning, Mike!”

Sure enough, his fellow associate’s boss turned around, and there was no getting out of this. He wouldn’t have minded so much but for the audience.

“Well, if it isn’t the newbie – you look tired. Busy night?” Harvey asked with a raised eyebrow that gave way to a corners-only smirk. The implication of the question was obvious, but it was impossible not to notice his much more reserved manner today. Mike wondered if Donna had said something to him after all.

“Yes, Mr. Specter. I’m just trying to keep up with the work Ms. Pearson is giving me. Speaking of which, we have a meeting and I don’t want to keep her waiting,” he said, grabbing the appropriate file.

Mike scowled at a mound of papers lying on top of the chest of drawers – Louis. He’d deal with him later.

“Say no more. I wouldn’t want to get you fired so soon.”

Mike nodded and headed for the elevators, stumbling twice. He’d parse that sentence for meaning later.

\-----

To: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Sent: 8:48 AM

_Any more progress this morning?_

From: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 8:51 AM

_No, but it’s just a matter of time. I’ll expedite if he drags it out._

\-----

The labs of Apollodyne were in a swanky office park in the firmly gentrified part of Brooklyn. Mike stared at the steel-and-glass exteriors and recalled what the area had looked like when he was a kid and all the cabs still avoided it.

The ride had actually been pretty enjoyable. Keith and he had kept up a lively debate over the carelessness of cyclists in the city. Keith didn’t hate Mike for being a biker, but he’d claimed to have seen enough bad behavior in his first two years to last a lifetime. Weaving through fast-moving traffic, not bothering to stop at intersections, even gashing the driver’s trousers as he got out of the car one time – the litany of offenses was extensive.

Mike had similar experiences in the opposite direction. Only two major accidents, but with his memory that was more than enough. He recalled how after the first one Grammy had forbidden him to get back on any bike for three months. She’d claimed that he would go into shock as soon as he did, but he’d worn her down. Of course, she’d been right – he had to dismount and walk his new (used) one-speed back home after a mile the first time out. But Mike was stronger than he looked. He got over it eventually.

It was only when he heard the door on the other side of the car open that he remembered Jessica’s presence. She’d been oddly quiet the whole ride, tapping away at the screen of her phone.

“Hurry up, Mike, or I’ll have Keith lock you inside while he sends the car through the wash,” she said before turning and heading toward the tallest structure in the plaza.

Other than that threat, though, she was silent until a receptionist led them to an enormous conference room. All glass, just like Pearson Hardman. It made him jealous of corporate interior designers – they’d probably come up with one concept in the past fifteen years and recycled it ad nauseam while they played Call of Duty.

“Ms. Pearson, Mr. Evers will be right in,” the brunette said as she gestured to the table and left.

“Mike, here are some quick rules for meetings with me. One, don’t speak unless I ask you a question. Two, no fidgeting – sit still and project professionalism. Three, control your emotions. I know what to do to extract the information we need, but if you mess up my plans we could get stonewalled. I’m fine sparring with you in private, but in front of clients there will be no insubordination.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He wanted so badly to salute that, but knew better.

“Good,” she appraised. At that, the door swung open and a tall, gaunt African-American man walked into the room. Jessica rose and hugged him; the act was a terrifying sight.

“Jessica, it’s so good to see you again,” he said once they had separated and both taken their seats. “How long has it been?”

“Too long,” she replied. “We have the basic details of your case, but I wanted to sit down with you and make sure there wasn’t anything else you couldn’t say via the phone or internet.”

“You know, I was expecting Harvey to be with you,” Mr. Evers said, glancing over at Mike. “You haven’t fired him, have you?”

“Oh no. I expect to extract his full value in the many years ahead. This is my new stray, Mike.”

“Nice to meet you, Mike.”

“He’s fully aware of the issues at hand. Mike?”

“Right. You’re being sued by a group of patients who took part in a medical trial of a new drug. They claim that the iron wall between the placebo group and the group that got the actual drug was breached, allowing preferential treatment to select participants once you had observed its benefits. Furthermore, they claim that not only were you negligent upon learning of the violation, but that you actively hindered the investigation by tampering with company documents.

There were 1,134 patients in the placebo group and 1,089 patients receiving the drug at the start, falling to 1,027 in the former and 978 in the latter as of last Monday. But some of the weekly anonymous lists of patients are missing, so we don’t know how many people were in each group between the fifth and ninth weeks. You claim that was an error on the part of one of your interns – that she forgot to backup her files and misplaced the originals – but she’s hired outside council and has refused to testify. Alone that might not be worthy of concern, but taken with the evidence of alterations to in-house memos and the mixing-up of randomized participant ID numbers related to the experiment, it presents a heavily damning case against you. At the very least, you look incompetent. At worst, well-”

“You don’t hire fools, Jessica,” he commented, cutting him off.

“Uh uh, Darrell. Present your side of the story,” she warned, staring straight at her ex-husband.

“I can’t fool you, Jessica. It happened.”

“Who did it? If it was one of your employees we need to have their employment terminated as soon as possible.”

“…It was me.”

“Damnit, Darrell!” she blurted, slapping the desk. “Who did you insert into the drug group? How many people?”

“Only myself.”

Mike realized instantly what the man was really saying.

“Darrell, the study was a test of new medication for extending the lives of patients with late-stage pancreatic cancer.”

“I know, Jessica.”

She turned to Mike now quickly. “Would you go and get me some water?” There was a slight hitch in her voice.

Mike took the signal and left the conference room. It took a while before he could grab someone’s attention and ask where the kitchen was. By the time Mike had returned with a bottle of Dasani, his boss’ serene expression was cemented back into place. She took it from him without saying anything and the rest of the meeting carried on as if Jessica’s ex hadn’t told them both he was months or even weeks away from dying.

\-----

“You call this information, you boob? I could get more from the guy who washes the windows. As a matter of fact,” Louis considered before pressing down on the intercom button, “Norma, get me the number of the window washer.”

“How am I supposed to finish all the actual work you give me and look into why Jessica Pearson hired Mike Ross at the same time? And I told you I can’t get his birth certificate because the woman who works in that office is the mother of the captain of the soccer team mine beat in middle school. If you want to know more about him you’ll have to give me a day off.”

“There are no days off at Pearson Hardman. That’s just an urban legend, like work/life balance or finding a decent temp,” Louis said, checking his fingernails.

“Then you’re not getting any more information from me. None of this is in my contract, so I don’t have to do it.”

“Who’s the man, Kyle?” Louis asked.

“Clearly not-”

“I asked you who the man is.”

Kyle let out an enormous sigh before turning away and saying under his breath, “You are, Louis.”

“Good. Now find out more about him that I can use to demand obedience from him or a raise from Jessica. Nothing is beneath me. You should know that by now.”

Kyle hung his head and nodded.

“Oh, and Kyle? What’s this?” he asked, holding one of the briefs Kyle had composed.

“The brief for the Bourgain matter. One of my finer works, if I do say so myself.”

“No it’s not. Because I would never use anything so poorly constructed. You will redo this from scratch, and you will continue to redo it until I am satisfied. Because I am the man.”

“Am I dismissed?” He looked suitably battered, so Louis decided to show him some pity, mostly because he didn’t respect him.

“Yes, get out. You’re using up valuable air just sitting in here.”

Norma buzzed over the intercom. “I got a hold of the guy who washes the windows,” she said, pausing for a moment.

Sweet victory.

“But he doesn’t want to speak with you.”

“I’ve come to vipe your vindows,” Harvey mocked from the doorway. “Oh, and you think you’re the man? Please. You’re not even my substitute, Louis.” He turned and continued on down the hallway.

Son of a-

\-----

Jessica was so unfair sometimes. So what if Mike was a native New Yorker? Actually, scratch that. Mike was a Brooklynite, not a Manhattanite. He even signed those ridiculous petitions to secede and become a separate city again.

It wasn’t as though Mike had any real knowledge of what places worked for corporate parties. Everybody these days wanted an impossible combination of an authentic and cheap little hole in the wall that could provide the nutritional information of its offerings and promise every ingredient was local, organic, and humanely acquired. As if the Turkish immigrant who owned the kebab place and barely broke even each month gave a damn about his carbon footprint or what the chickens felt as they fattened up in their tiny cages.

Sure, Mike probably should have seen his rookie dinner as an appropriate challenge. It was the one demand placed on him in his first two weeks that wasn’t excessive. It was quite democratic – the one thing expected of every new associate, no matter whether they were personally hired by a senior partner or just brought in during a recruitment drive. And on the surface, it seemed so simple: just find a not terrible place and then part with a chunk of your savings or else rack up a whole bunch of debt.

So, of course, it was the one task that Mike knew he would be utterly unable to accomplish single-handedly. At least that’s what he told himself the day after he found out about it, squeezing out a little time in the day to sneak off to Rachel’s office. (Oh yeah, apparently she was ‘The Paralegal’, because she got four walls and blessed privacy.) If anyone asked, he was getting research assistance while figuring out how best to ensure Apollodyne didn’t bleed out from its lawsuit.

“Mike, you’re being a toddler.”

“But I don’t wanna pick out a place myself,” he said dramatically. Rachel rolled her eyes at that.

“Here’s a little secret. You’re not facing stiff competition. In fact, the last couple of these were very low bars.”

“Huh? So I can screw this up?”

“No, but think about it for a moment. The last two rookies hired on were Kyle and Harold. Kyle’s choice was a place known to launder money to the first family of Uzbekistan. Harold decided to…well, almost everyone agrees that Harvey chose for him as a part of a deal to take on a couple of pro bonos he didn’t want.”

“Why are all the partners so reluctant to take on pro bono cases? At their level the money doesn’t even matter anymore, right? Shouldn’t the guilt be kicking in by then?”

“Honestly, Mike, sometimes you’re so precious it hurts,” Rachel remarked as she swiveled her chair around to grab something. “People take on clients gratis because Jessica makes them or because they’re trying to look good for when promotion season starts. Once you’ve bought into the firm that only leaves the former option.”

Mike reassessed Jessica’s offer from their interview. Did she think he was so stupid that she could bribe him with the very thing other people avoided? Or maybe they were the only ones who shared that worldview. He had a feeling he’d seen more of her than just about anyone else in the firm and definitely more than she ever would have preferred.

“Okay, let me ask this question then: what neighborhood should I be looking in for the right restaurant? What part of town are all your foodie blogs raving about now?”

Rachel narrowed her eyes and paused before saying, “What makes you think I read foodie blogs? Am I incapable of developing a palate on my own? Do I need to have people tell me what I should and should not like?”

“You have a Pinterest account.”

Rachel rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. Who was being the toddler now?

“So do lots of other people.”

“Which I’m guessing you use to see what other people are pinning without ever pinning anything yourself.”

“Your point?”

“Just give me the list of places where I should be looking and I’ll go away.”

“Fine. The West Village is too expensive and so overdone. TriBeCa would work except that it’s too crowded. Nothing on either of the Uppers is convenient, least of all to you, Mike. Seriously – Brooklyn? You know this is a firm that abhors B&Ters, right?”

“Hey!”

“Don’t even try to deny it. You probably live in some hovel in Fort Greene but tell people you’re on Park Slope,” she judged. “Why don’t you try something in the East Village, but stay away from St. Mark’s Place. I don’t need to be accosted by undergrads for being a preppy blueblood.”

Mike smirked.

“What?”

“You just called yourself a preppy blueblood.”

“I did not. I said that other people call me that. If you don’t leave my office in the next five seconds, I’ll chuck a stapler at your head.”

“I’ve been waiting to ask about that since I sat down. Are associates supposed to gift paralegals with office supplies? Because your desk is seriously like a second supply closet.”

“In your case, it couldn’t hurt,” she said while trying to give him the evil eye. Rachel really needed to practice that more if she wanted to use it at trial once she got her J.D.

“So, a three-hole punch?”

“I’ll give you three whole punches,” she said as she turned back to the case history she had been reviewing before Mike bothered her. “Oh wait, give this to Harold.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“I’ll pay for lunch next time.”

“Deal.”

He rounded the corner on his way to the associate pool, file in hand, only to barely miss knocking over Harvey.

“I didn’t figure you for having much in common with Kody. Harassing the paralegals, Mike? Or am I the wrong person to chastise you for that?” he pried with a grin.

“I get the feeling that you’re all sorts of wrong, Mr. Specter,” he answered with a carefully maintained poker face.

Harvey didn’t respond but allowed him to pass. When Mike gave Harold his documents the curly blond thanked him profusely.

“It was no problem at all,” Mike said, smiling.

\-----

Mike was so busy balancing his stack of precedents and theories that he heard Wendy’s voice before he saw her. Excuse him for being on fire the fourth day in a row.

“No.”

“Huh?” Mike asked, stopping to look at her. She nodded in the direction of Jessica’s office.

His boss and Harvey were seated on the couch; her hand was on his thigh and his was stacked on top of hers. She was staring down at the coffee table in front of them and neither one was saying anything.

“Just leave those here,” Wendy said.

Mike did just that. Five minutes later he was still standing in front of the sink in the men’s bathroom. He had never been good with grief, and the image of the two most powerful people in his life struggling with it themselves dredged up memories of the cemetery plot where his parents lay.

\-----

With hindsight, Harvey saw that it was a comically bad idea. But you couldn’t blame a man for doing something dumb when the only reasonable solution wasn’t on the table. And hey, he’d taken home bad lays before; it wasn’t as if this particular time had anything to do with the fact that he had sought out the closest replica to Mike Ross he could find.

Because that’s exactly what Harvey had done Friday night after a week of letting his mouth say what it wanted around Jessica’s associate and then punishing himself for it after with increasingly strenuous boxing sessions. Frustratingly, it seemed like the more energy he burned in the ring with his sparring partners, the more restless he was at night. It didn’t make any sense to him. So he’d gone out to a bar popular with the finance crowd with a mental checklist for what he wanted.

It hadn’t taken that long either. There were plenty of smooth, lanky blonds and he’d eventually settled on one. They made out in the back for a bit; under the dim light and with the aid of a little liquor it almost felt right. For a moment, he even felt like he was twenty years old again.

But after the cab ride back to his building it all went wrong. Harvey didn’t want the imposter once the harsh light of the lobby poured down on him. He didn’t even use his personal elevator, opting for the regular one. When they’d gone inside his apartment, the guy had eagerly gone down on his knees. The subsequent fellatio was a bit amateurish and mostly uninspiring, so Harvey opted to switch the roles. Blessedly, that ended quickly and then Harvey had (gently) pushed him back out, slipping him cab fare to wherever he was going.

Harvey changed out of his suit, careful to put the pieces inside a garment bag and hang it up in the coat closet. (The dry cleaners came every Sunday morning, taking away five dirty suits and giving him five clean ones in return. Harvey loved a good routine, and it made it easier for Donna to schedule his life, so it was a win/win.)

Once he’d thrown on an old t-shirt and jeans he checked the time. It was still way too early in the night. He trotted back out to the kitchen and forced himself to cook dinner. Harvey knew he’d be in a foul mood if he didn’t talk to someone, so he ran through the list of all the possible sounding boards for his whinging while the pasta boiled:

  *       Donna: no, she’d just gloat
  *       Jessica: no, not after the week she’d had
  *       Harold: no, abusing an associate was the problem, not the solution
  *       Vanessa: no, she didn’t like to share personal information



With his brother out in a village in the jungle, he didn’t have many other options. He retrieved his phone and dialed Ray. He usually didn’t speak with his driver about personal matters, but he knew the man would listen and he’d proven himself fairly perceptive in the past. The man picked up on the second ring.

“Harvey, is there something I can do for you tonight?”

“Ray, I feel old.”

“Did you end up with the daughter of a previous bedmate?” the driver asked.

“What? No,” he said laughing, stirring the contents of the pot.

“I thought you had that MoMA party to go to tonight?”

“Edgy art gets exhausting after a while. Is this the extent of my life?”

“You’re just going through a dry spell, Harvey. It’ll pass.”

“Thanks, Ray. What’s going on at your house? I’m not interrupting something important, am I?”

“My kid is watching _Cars_ for the seventh time. You’re welcome to come over if you want to learn some new movie quotes,” he offered.

“Sorry, Ray. Christ, could you imagine me as a father?” he asked and they both chuckled. “Alright, I’ll let you go.”

“Sure thing, boss. Anytime.”

His fears assuaged, Harvey finished dinner and plopped down on the couch. He rifled around on his Netflix account (Donna’s last birthday gift for the man who had everything) and settled on a sci-fi movie. By the time he fell asleep in the same spot a couple hours later, he felt a whole lot better.

It helped that he signed the Steinbrenner brothers in his dream that night.

\-----

“Mike, you’ll take care of the settlement conference tomorrow for the Evers matter on your own.”

“What? It’s the Tuesday of my second week, Jessica. Second!”

“And normally I wouldn’t ask this of someone so green. But I happen to think you’re best suited to the needs of this particular negotiation.”

Mike stared at her for a bit. Was it more that he was capable of it or that she was incapable of it?

“I don’t think you’re thinking clearly. You’re still in grief-”

“Mike, I’m not going to lie and say I don’t have emotions. But I’m a lawyer – I can’t reveal my emotions to the opposition. That’s part of the reason why I have you around; you’re not a lawyer, at least not in the traditional sense.”

“…If you’re sure. Still, do you want to run through strategy first?” hoping that she’d program him and then he could just play the mental tape in the meeting.

“Mike, I think I just told you what you need to do. Don’t fuck up,” she warned, turning her attention back to another case file on her desk. As if it was the easiest thing he’d ever do.

Thus Mike found himself sitting across the table from seven plaintiffs and one of the sleaziest-looking lawyers since that bastard who’d screwed over Grammy and him when his parents died. He even wore the same cologne.

“We want $168,000,000. And Mr. Evers pleads guilty on all criminal counts,” the opposing council said. It was an outrageous initial offer.

“Are any of you aware that Mr. Evers also has pancreatic cancer?” Mike asked. He let that sink in for a moment before continuing, “It doesn’t excuse what he did, and I don’t expect the three of you to forgive his actions just because of it. But the man threw himself into the study because he was just as scared and desperate as you.”

“He broke the law, kid. Where the hell is Jessica? I thought she’d at least have the decency to toss Harvey on this case,” the other lawyer said.

“If he had died, the study would have gone under cost-benefit analysis. This man,” Mike said, retrieving a story of an industry ax man, “would have likely been appointed to fill Mr. Evers’ position. Do any of you know why he’s famous within the pharmaceutical world? He’s a cost cutter. He nixes anything that isn’t ninety-nine percent certain to draw profits in three years.”

The seven clients began to look at one another, but opposing council told them to shut up and let him do the thinking.

“He committed countless unethical actions. That study will be thrown out anyway now that he’s tampered with it.”

“The study is already wrapping because the drug’s benefits have become statistically and observationally significant, even with the loss of the patient lists. That means that there’ll likely be a second trial, at least if the company survives this lawsuit. None of that would have happened if he hadn’t done what he did to prolong his own life. I’m not saying you have to excuse his stupidity, and what he did was damned stupid and selfish, but you should think about the ramifications of your demands. If you take $168,000,000 for yourselves, you’ll hamstring Apollodyne.”

“It’s a dirty company.”

“It’s the one of the few minor companies that gives a damn about cancer patients anymore. The big drug companies are shifting focus to chronic conditions because they can sell medications to those patients longer. Look, my boss – the one who agreed to take the case – is the ex-wife of Mr. Evers. The only reason why a woman who disliked a man enough to divorce him would stand up and fight for him like this is because she knows that he did what he did with the best intentions. And the mindset of a cancer patient, which you seven know well.”

“Please address me and not my clients, brat.”

“But that’s beside the point,” Mike said, ignoring the sleazeball. “The question you really need to ask yourselves is would you rather have a fat wad of cash or half-a-year longer with your loved ones. Then think about what they would rather have. It’s a pretty clear choice.

“The offer I’m putting forward is this: $14,000,000. You’ll also all receive the medication at no expense for as long as you live. As will all the other patients who ever received the placebo. On top of that, Mr. Evers agrees to plead guilty, but you’ll appeal to the judge to deliver the sentence with time served on account of his prognosis. When he passes, his estate will be liquidated and turned into a college fund for children whose parents have passed from pancreatic cancer.”

“That’s outrageous. You can’t expect to slash $150,000,000 off the settlement. We’re entitled to as much money as we want. We’re out of here,” the other lawyer replied, but the seven others seemed to have a different mind.

An elderly woman on the far end of the table spoke up first, saying that the deal sounded good to her. The lawyer tried to shut her up, which earned him the ire of the man sitting to his immediate left. The whole thing imploded on him, and even though Mike probably could have milked them for more, he decided to let them have the deal he offered in full.

Jessica was out and Wendy told him to let the boss bring up his success first. She slipped in something about not ruining the moment.

So he had a dinner with Rachel in the library that night to celebrate. He excused himself for a bit mid-meal to call Grammy, knowing she’d still be sharp from spending some ‘quality time with Trebek’, as she liked to put it. He bragged about his victory (while fudging his job as “legal consultant”) and about how the female plaintiff who’d spoken first reminded him of her. She admonished him for likening his grandmother to some “elderly woman,” but he could hear the pride in her voice.

\-----

Donna rang the doorbell (scraping her pinky finger seemed more apt considering the opulence of the building, but Harvey would have noticed the red nail polish) and waited for her boss’ reaction. She’d been over to Harvey’s condo countless times, but rarely this early. Still, she needed to give him a verbal shove, and if she’d tried in the office he would have scowled and ignored every word.

But she hadn’t come empty-handed. She had a bag with the panacea of the restless and love-wracked: a breakfast burrito. Made from scratch by her favorite chef at her favorite diner. Two of them, actually.

“Uli, you’re awfully early today-” he cut off abruptly once he had opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

Harvey Specter was wearing nothing more than an unbuttoned shirt and briefs, framing his muscular torso perfectly. The label on the waistband of the latter piece of clothing announced it as one of those fashionable brands popular with gay men. But that was all a distraction: Harvey hadn’t hammered his hair into place yet, and Donna considered trying to snap a blackmail photo of the messy, damp locks.

“Damn, I really need to stop by more often.”

Harvey lowered his eyelids and made to slam the door but she stopped him. “Don’t even think about it, Harvey Specter. You’re going to finish getting dressed and then we’re going to have breakfast together.”

He gave a resigned sigh and allowed her inside. She decided she’d give him a pass on the picture and instead started for the cabinets to retrieve plates while he retreated to his bedroom.

“You know, I might be more amenable to these visits if you ever bothered to phone first.” His voice was muffled, probably by all the tailored masterpieces in his walk-in closet.

“But then you would have fled to the gym just to avoid me. Not that you need it – you’ve had six boxing mornings in the past ten days. Anything you want to tell me about?” she asked coyly, carefully unwrapping the ambrosia.

“As if you don’t know. You were the one who scheduled those time slots,” Harvey grunted, the sound of shoes being dropped to the floor punctuating the accusation.

“Being omniscient isn’t a choice, Harvey. I can’t turn it off.”

“There are certainly needier cases in the office, though,” he retorted. Speed dresser that he was, she guessed he was already putting on his tie and cufflinks by now.

“True, but they can’t buy me expensive things that I like. Nobody ever said I was altruistic.”

Sure enough, Harvey emerged from his bedroom a couple minutes later, completely dressed but for his jacket which he carried in his hands and carefully wrapped around the back of his chair.

“Coffee’s ready, boss. Sit down; I’ll join you in a second.”

“Have you ever brought breakfast to any of your boyfriends’ apartments?”

“Nope, only the big, irritable baby in front of me.”

“Good,” he concluded, reaching for his burrito.

“So?” she asked as he took a bite.

“Five minutes,” he replied quickly before taking another bite. Victory was hers.

“So you want to jackhammer Mike, right?”

Harvey choked and gave her a dirty look as she handed him his coffee.

“I don’t-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. You’re a ‘gentleman’; you seduce others only with the politest of innuendo, and you never tell anyone how anyone else was in the sack. Except with me, since I can see it written across your face.”

Donna couldn’t tell if Harvey was eating his burrito to stall for time while he though of a reply or because he was already hooked. Either way, it was a further point for her.

“I don’t even think he’s bi. He’s probably straight but too terrified of getting canned to speak up,” he said, setting the other half of his burrito down and looking over at her earnestly. “The thing is, I have such a hard time controlling myself when he’s around me. There’s just something about him that makes me say whatever’s on my mind.”

“Looks like Jessica found your Kryptonite. But you know the solution to that, don’t you?”

“No. What is it? A tractor beam? Call Batman?”

Donna nearly facepalmed. God he was such a closet dork. “No, you dolt. If you can’t get rid of an allergic substance, the only resort you have is to develop a tolerance to it.”

Realization flashed across Harvey’s face. “So you’re saying that I _should_ jackhammer him? But the power imbalance…how am I supposed to know if he’d really want that?”

Donna raised her eyebrows, helping herself to a big bite of her own burrito.

“Wait, you asked him that? I can’t believe you, Donna! And you’re breaking his trust by telling me that,” Harvey accused.

“No, Harvey, you’re breaking my trust in you,” she said dramatically, “my trust that you can nail some hot associate ass whenever you please. You’ve been so hesitant in the past two weeks, almost like Louis.” She paused to consider that last point.

“Take that back right now.”

“Okay, so it’s not that bad. But he’s totally into it. And even if he wasn’t, you saw how he got that settlement deal yesterday. It’s his second week, and he already staved off a huge loss for Jessica…no, the firm’s client. If he wanted you to stop, don’t you think he would have already told you?”

Harvey grunted his concession.

“I don’t want to put maneuvers into your playbook, but tonight is his rookie dinner. It starts at 6:00 and it’ll probably clear out by 8:30. It’s at some place in the Bowery.”

Harvey made no response and they finished eating.

“Do you want to ride with Ray and me?”

“Harvey, what would people say if we showed up to work together?” she asked dramatically. She received a scowl for that.

“Oh, and Donna?” Harvey asked as she made for the front door.

“Yes, Harvey?”

“Text me the address of that restaurant sometime this afternoon.”

“Sure thing, boss,” she promised smugly, letting the door shut itself behind her.

\-----

From: Jessica (215-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 4:31 PM

_You did alright, kid. But don’t expect the opposition to be fair-minded cancer patients every time._

_Bit of advice: keep Kyle away from the paralegals after he’s had his third beer tonight._

\-----

“This is delicious!” Harold exclaimed between loud bites.

“Harold, you’re supposed to drag that through the dip before you eat it,” Rachel said disapprovingly, but when she went to demonstrate the proper technique he pulled back defensively.

Mike smiled at them and scanned the assembled mass of associates, paralegals, receptionists, IT, and even a few partners. Everyone seemed to be having a good time and he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He went to go and grab another glass of champagne. Well, it was really sparkling wine. He’d spoken with the owner after Louis had sent over his wine request list and gotten them to switch out the more ridiculous bottles for cheaper vintages and vineyards.

It was not meant to be, though. As he reached out for the stem of a glass a hairy paw smacked his hand down.

“Sorry, Mike. The host isn’t allowed to drink more than one glass,” Louis said, as though they were still in the office. “Besides, you need to be fresh for tomorrow. There’s going to be another pile of chores waiting just for you.”

“Louis? Look, I realize we got off on the wrong foot. Can we call a truce and put what happened last week behind us?” Mike asked. Truthfully, he didn’t have a problem finishing Louis’ tasks, but he did mind the reputation he was getting for being the junior partner’s whipping boy.

“Are you kidding me? You’re getting so much done that I’m actually rushing to get more clients to keep you busy. Do you know what that means? I’ll finally be able to upgrade to the black diamond level membership at the racquetball club.”

“Uhh, thanks? But I’m Jessica’s associate, not yours. What do you think would happen if I told her that she was subsidizing your billables?”

“Oh God. She’d demand a percentage of my pay. Or she’d use January 17, 1988 against me,” he said with a mixture of dread and humiliation, looking over towards the poker table at that last part.

“Or she’d just forbid you to use me and you’d have to get Kyle, Devon and Jeffrey to try and stem the loss of productivity.”

A look of horror crossed Louis’ face and he slowly walked away. Mike decided not to follow him yet. No, he’d wait until the man had downed another couple of glasses before trying to get him to a sign a binding agreement scrawled on a napkin. It wasn’t like the other attendees would testify to his intoxication to get him out of it.

An eruption of cheers and moans caught his attention and he moved to inspect the state of the poker game. Kyle had dominated the loud-mouthed receptionist (hey, she wasn’t a paralegal) early on, but when she had given her seat over to Donna the tide turned. The associate had managed to coax money out of Devon to keep the game going. He’d also tried to grab Harold, but that’s when Rachel decided the latter man needed to try the toasted triangle wedge things.

“C’mon, Durant. You’ve got more tells than an interpretive dancer,” Donna mocked, raking in another pile of bills. Behind her the men and women from the front desk were cheering and figuring out how they’d spend their share.

“Donna, don’t you think this is a little unfair?” Mike teased as he neared the table. She gave him an exaggerated frown and then told the techie to shuffle faster so she’d get another round in while her luck held out. As if it was ever going to end tonight.

Kyle and Devon both looked at Mike greedily and he was quick to head them off at the pass. “Nope, you walked right into this one. Besides, I’m paying for just about everything else.”

“Pleasssse. Youuuuuu jus wanna help ou’ mommy,” Devon slurred. The idiot was already plastered, and it was only 7:50. At least he knew who was sitting on the chopping block come the end of the fiscal quarter.

“If I’m mommy then I guess it’s time for a spanking,” Donna said now that the techie was dealing.

Mike didn’t hate his fellow associates enough to watch any more of the trouncing, opting to head back to Rachel and Harold. The latter was regaling the former and the bartender with stories of Harvard. Rachel, like many other employees at Pearson Hardman, still struggled to imagine him ever having attended. (Which was definitely not why Mike liked having him around in hairy situations…) He was telling them the story of how his opponent in a mock trial got him to do all the research for both sides.

“That’s what he said – that the judge decided to switch which sides we were assigned and that he needed my notes but that his ex-girlfriend burned his.”

“You realize how stupid that sounds, right Harold?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, but he was so persuasive! That’s probably why he won the trial.”

Mike smiled and took a seat at the bar. He didn’t bother trying to order a drink – he didn’t doubt that Louis was monitoring him. And anyway, Harold’s stories were always better completely sober. There was no understanding them otherwise.

\-----

Time passed and people began to file out. A tipsy Louis demanded that Kyle and Devon help him home, though he wondered if they even had enough money left for cab fare. Rachel and the bartender disappeared for a while and eventually he realized that they weren’t coming back for the night.

The last person to leave (that he knew) was Donna, who kept up a little conversation with Mike. She checked to make sure that he was sober a couple times, which was odd because it wasn’t like it mattered. He was fairly sure that had Jessica shown up even she would’ve let loose. Once satisfied that he was okay and apparently done looking for something, she gave him a little peck on the cheek and slid $20 worth of small bills into his hands.

“Your share of the winnings. That little interruption cost them another round,” she said before leaving the restaurant.

Sighing, Mike knew there was no more point putting off the inevitable. He walked over to the cashier who gave him a pitiful look and handed him the little white sheet of paper that would decide what he’d be eating for the next month. (Mike still had money in his savings account, but enjoyed the buffer more than expensive grub.)

As Mike unfolded the bill, he discovered that Jessica hadn’t been far off about the total. Thankfully, he’d received his new credit card a couple of days earlier. He had just slid it over to the cashier when the door of the restaurant opened. He turned to see none other than Harvey Specter strolling in.

“If you’re here to enjoy some wine at my expense, you missed your opportunity, Mr. Specter,” he informed gleefully.

“I prefer scotch, anyway. And you can call me 'Harvey' now; we’re not in the office,” the older man shot back, approaching the till.

Mike was working that over in his head as he whipped out a pen to sign his name and retrieve the card. If it was anything like his phone, he’d need to keep the thing chained to him at all times. He’d just returned it safely to his wallet when he felt the other man’s body heat against his back. He turned to see the senior partner right up in his face again.

He looked a bit ruffled, and it suited him. Of course, Harvey Specter ruffled was anyone else primped and starched. His tie was loosened just a bit and his hair was starting to break loose from its hair gel prison. Most tellingly, though, his eyelids were just a little droopy from a long day’s work. Mike didn’t know why, but taken together it was insanely hot.

“C’mon. We wouldn’t want to be late.”

“Late? Where are we going?”

“You’re coming back to my place,” Harvey stated as he raised his eyebrows. It took Mike a bit to realize Harvey was asking, not ordering, and that he wanted a response.

Mike prepared to deliver an affirmative wrapped in a snarky comeback. As he opened his mouth, though, a wolf whistle from the cashier stirred up the butterflies in his stomach. All he could manage to do was nod his approval. Harvey threw an arm around him, resting it at his waist to guide him outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm flabbergasted at all the kind comments and kudos I've received. THANK YOU! There are nearly two hundred of the latter thus far, which is more than I ever thought I'd get. If you haven't commented please feel free to do so; I won't bite and I really appreciate the encouragement.
> 
> Oh, and as a reminder, Chapter Five will be up Thursday afternoon/evening.


	5. Come, Come and Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains porn. Lots of it. If you'd rather avoid reading such prurient material (or at least the explicit stuff), just skip the first section.

Harvey Specter’s building was friggin’ sweet. Or at least that’s what Mike posited from the streaks of steel and highly polished hardwood he glimpsed as the older man pulled him along. When they’d passed by the main elevator bank, he didn’t really know what to think. He certainly wasn’t expecting Harvey to lead him to a locked door, opening it to reveal a small room with a single jaw-dropping feature.

A glass elevator in a glass shaft affixed to the main structure of the building stood before him. His mouth was still gaping when Harvey turned to look at him. He didn’t know if the sight Harvey’s guests made was sufficient to justify the expense of such an extravagant piece, but Mike was surely meeting his individual quota.

“So, you want to go up? You can still back out now, if you’d rather just head home,” Harvey uttered while unlocking the doors of his transparent lift.

“No, no. You can beam me up, Harvey,” Mike assured, stepping inside the thing. He silently cursed himself for that, wondering if the senior partner would still be able to get it up after a _Star Trek_ reference. Harvey said nothing but pressed a little ‘P’ that glowed blue; the doors shut in front of them a beat later.

As the fanciful cage slowly ascended, Mike turned to check out the view. He wasn’t disappointed in the slightest, though he froze when he felt the thing stop. He should have known this elevator ride with Harvey wasn’t going to be any simpler than the last. Mike spun back to look at the other man, only to be pushed up against the glass.

“You’re so damned sexy, Mike,” Harvey said, pinning his arms to the wall as he moved in for a kiss.

Mike had long abandoned the idea of an objectively good or bad kiss. Everyone had his own preference. People he’d been with had wanted more or less tongue, more or less noise, more or less biting – if you could figure out where they sat on the spectrum you could usually adjust to meet their demands.

Harvey Specter, though, kissed pretty much perfectly in Mike’s standards. It was sloppy and messy, with teeth dragging across his sensitive lower lip and hands taking advantage of the distraction to roam freely. Harvey thrust his torso up against Mike’s, the former dragging his crotch across the latter’s thigh. The senior partner was fully erect; had the suit been any thinner, the engorged member probably would have ripped it.

“Unghh,” Mike managed to get out when Harvey broke the kiss.

“So articulate,” Harvey teased. Mike attempted a comeback, but gave into an unbelievably loud moan when fingertips ghosted over his own dick.

“You don’t have to say anything, Mike,” Harvey said as the same fingers began unbuttoning his fly. “Just lean back and enjoy this.” The command still working its way through Mike’s brain, Harvey squatted down and carefully eased his hands into Mike’s jockstrap, yanking it down and releasing his erection. He looked up at Mike as he pulled the prick out of his trousers.

“I’m impressed rookie. This is going to be a fun challenge,” he said, giving Mike’s cock a couple cursory pumps with his fist, sliding Mike’s sheath back and forth over his head.

Harvey once again denied him time for a response, opening his mouth wide and leaning in. The man was an expert, deep-throating his whole nine-inch length on the first pass. No one had ever managed that before. Mike let out a lurid moan that gave way to a scream when, astoundingly, Harvey thrust his tongue out of his very full face and licked a stripe up Mike’s scrotum.

“GoddamnfuckingChrist, Harvey!”

Harvey chuckled and the sensation Mike felt was absolutely incredible. The man slowly pulled back; there was a ‘pop’ of suction when he’d released the head.

“I thought you might be a foul-mouthed slut, Mike. But that was just the beginning,” Harvey said. His eyes were watering and a sniffle told the younger man that Harvey’s nose was starting to run. The man below reached behind himself and pressed another button, and suddenly the whole elevator became painfully bright. Mike figured they were about twenty-five stories up, and with the lights on there was no way anyone could miss what was happening in the lift.

“Harvey-”

“No, Mike. If you want me to stop, just say so. But otherwise, I’d kind of like to get back to what I was doing earlier.”

Mike made no moves to halt him, so the best blowjob he’d probably ever have resumed. He was still terrified, looking around nervously, as though a SWAT team would abseil down the side of the building and order them to stop. The panic only heightened the intense sensations, making him jittery enough to begin thrusting into Harvey’s mouth.

At that, Harvey pulled back and gave him a threatening look. He took Mike’s hands and wrapped them around the waist-high, stainless steel railing and restrained the younger man’s thighs with his palms. That accomplished, he leaned his head forward again and once again deep-throated Mike.

“Gonna go insane,” Mike groaned, struggling to still himself. He didn’t have enough bandwidth for everything that was happening, so he forgot about the fact that he was probably entertaining hundreds of people. When Harvey began to hum and dart his tongue from side to side as he eased himself up and down, Mike closed his eyes and eased his head back.

The subsequent seven minutes or so were sheer bliss. Mike’s frantic moans made the sounds of Harvey’s lips smacking as he pulled back to the tip and swallowed Mike’s whole shaft again nearly inaudible. Harvey stopped on one retreat to fully release the younger man’s balls from the tight fabric and give them a tongue bath as well before returning to the main attraction. The older man’s suction was random, drifting from a breathy embrace to a vice-like squeeze and back again without warning.

But Harvey ultimately brought that bliss to a shuddering, convulsing end. The final straw was when the older man wrapped a hand around Mike’s balls and gave them a firm tug. Mike went over the edge, blasting a startling amount of come right down Harvey’s throat. The man pulled off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Ah, I should’ve given you some warning,” Mike said as the embarrassment flooded back.

“Mike, I think you should know by now that I enjoy a good surprise once in a while.” Just then, he stood and slammed his mouth into Mike’s. He demanded entry, and when Mike acquiesced he was rewarded with the taste of himself. The kiss deepened and seemed to drag on until they both needed air.

“Oh, and by the way,” Harvey said as he pivoted enough to press the appropriate buttons to turn off the lights and restart the elevator’s ascent, “thanks for shaving things down there. You have no idea how obnoxious it is having someone’s pubic hair rub against your nose.”

Mike burst into laughter and leaned in for a hug, still unsure on his feet without the support of the glass behind him.

“Thank you, Harvey. That was the greatest.”

“I know, kid. But you might be able to outdo me – we haven’t gotten to your turn, yet.”

There was a ding and the doors opened to a spacious living room. Harvey gave Mike another licentious grin, taking hold of him by his softening member and leading him to the couch.

“Strip. Rene will kill us both if we wrinkle our suits,” Harvey stated. Mike blushed, and Harvey rolled his eyes. “Mike, I just sucked you off in a glass elevator for all my neighbors to see. Take off your clothes and give them to me so I can hang them up.”

Mike did so, feeling both literally and figuratively exposed with each article of clothing removed. Harvey left when he’d been reduced to his underwear; his cock was still too swollen to fit inside the jockstrap, so he tossed it aside and sat down on the comfortable leather.

A couple minutes later, a nearly naked Harvey re-emerged. He was wearing briefs made from some kind of elasticized fabric; they strained to conceal an obviously rock-hard cock. Harvey took a seat beside Mike, reaching around to pull his head into another kiss. This time there was even more teeth, and Mike felt like he was beginning to learn some of Harvey’s kinks.

Mike opened his mouth and the older man’s tongue did a full sweep of his teeth before pushing into his own tongue. They struggled for dominance for a bit, the younger man pushing his way into the partner’s mouth at one point. Harvey pulled back slightly and started lightly biting Mike’s neck, eventually sucking hard around his collarbone. Mike moaned as he broke some of the older man’s locks free of the gel, running his hands through the brunet hair.

Eventually, though, Harvey urged Mike off the couch. He threw a pillow down on the spot in front of his legs, and Mike followed the silent command. Kneeling, Mike reached for the waistband of Harvey’s underwear, pulling it down as the older man lifted himself off the couch to ease the task. Harvey’s cock slapped against his chest upon release; once Mike had pulled the fabric past Harvey’s feet, he turned to look at it.

It wasn’t nearly as long as Mike’s was at full mast, but its girth was shocking. Mike reached for it, hypnotized. When Harvey made no move to stop him, he wrapped his hand around it – his thumb and middle finger barely made contact.

“I hope you’re not a virgin cocksucker, Mike. Otherwise this might be too much for you,” Harvey taunted.

“Just try to keep up, old man,” Mike said, wetting his lips. He pulled back the foreskin, leaning down and giving the shiny red glans a tentative lick. He turned his tongue to the underside, traveling from root to tip. He was a bit disappointed to find that Harvey had entirely too much self-control; Mike would need to fix that. Stretching his mouth as far as it would go, he began to sheathe the prick into himself.

“That’s good, Mike. You have no idea how sexy you look with your lips wrapped around my cock.”

Mike adjusted himself so that he could look into Harvey’s eyes. Seeing the pleasure there, he pushed himself down further until his lips reached the base. To his satisfaction, that elicited a sharp moan.

“Fuck, Mike. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

With that encouragement, Mike decided to let loose his inhibitions. He took Harvey’s hands and placed them on the back of his head. Taking the hint, Harvey began to pull Mike in deeper with one while he ran his hand through the blond’s hair with the other, disheveling it. Mike then moved his attention to Harvey’s thighs, coaxing them upwards. Harvey might have enjoyed a still body, but Mike wasn’t Harvey.

Harvey kept a steady rhythm of upward motion and hair teasing for a few minutes until Mike decided he needed more. He pulled himself back, the soreness in his jaw already becoming apparent. “Harvey, I need you to fuck my face,” he said in his now randy voice. When the other man hesitated he leaned down to suck on his balls. He dragged them as far as they would go using only his lips then let them slap back against the dumbstruck man.

“Jesus, Mike. Are you sure?” Harvey asked, forcing Mike off and demanding eye contact with a hand at the back of the younger man’s neck.

“Please Harvey…want you to use me.”

A guttural moan erupted and Harvey stood, pushing Mike backwards to make room. He tightened his grip on the younger man’s neck and pulled him up to crotch level, using a hand to push his member into the younger man’s opening mouth. Mike felt his cock stiffening again and began to jack himself as Harvey slowly increased his thrusting speed.

It was exactly the way Mike loved giving head. Harvey’s thickness stretched out his throat and he silently thanked all his previous lays for eradicating his gag reflex. The older man wasn’t holding back either – the earlier restraint gave way to a furious pistoning that barely allowed Mike enough thought to remember to breathe through his nose.

Mike hummed as he worked, enjoying the inability to predict what bit of his throat Harvey would slam into next. The hands on his head tightened, grabbing up his hair but not quite yanking on it. Mike wished there was a mirror nearby so he could see what the two of them looked like, but the couch obscured the windows. Did Harvey videotape his session?- probably not, but the notion made the younger man hornier still.

Just when he thought Harvey was getting used to being in control, he pulled off, taking the chance to gulp down air through his mouth.

“Is this alright Mike? Do you need me to lighten up?”

“Fuck no, Harvey. I want…want you to slap my face with your cock,” he replied, all the shame he usually felt for his fetishes now abandoned.

Happily, Harvey did as he was requested, smacking his stiff dick back and forth, stinging Mike’s cheeks. The girth of the thing produced a feeling akin to being whipped with a pool noodle. When Harvey’s cock was dry again he forced it back into Mike’s mouth. The younger man’s eyes were tearing and his cock was throbbing again. It was humiliating and dirty and depraved – he hadn’t been face-fucked this well in a long, long time. For the second time in maybe twenty minutes, Mike was steadily approaching orgasm.

The man above Mike was clearly enjoying it, too. Harvey abandoned any semblance of self-control, resorting to feral grunts and rough pulling when he wanted Mike to switch his approach. It was the same aggressive demeanor he’d experienced on his first day. Harvey would fuck Mike’s throat only to pull out and make him suck his balls or lick his length. He slapped his cock against Mike’s cheeks hard enough that there might well be red marks.

Five minutes later, a series of coarse groan from Harvey’s throat told him that his orgasm was nearing. Mike pulled off and decided to go for broke.

“Harvey, I want you to come all over my face. Shoot it all over me.”

Harvey gave a look of astonishment at the man beneath him as he took in the words; the older man leaned down and kissed Mike painfully and then wrapped his hand around his cock. He started jacking and the younger man made sure not to break eye contact.

“You’re such a filthy goddamned whore and I love it, Mike. You’re going to get my come all over your face. Is that what you want, you dirty slut?”

Mike’s only reply was a satisfied moan. Harvey’s words went straight to the root of his dick and he knew he’d come again shortly. He remembered Harvey’s discarded briefs, feeling for them and placing them in the spot between Harvey’s feet.

A startled cry followed by a spasm was all the warning Mike got. Harvey blasted his face like he hadn’t come for days. Mike groaned and fired into the stretchy fabric in front of him simultaneously, feeling the hot wetness land all over his head.

Mike thought it was over moments later, but astoundingly the first volley was followed a beat later by a second. Harvey was having multiple orgasms, and from the sounds coming from his mouth it was a surprise to them both. Mike reached up and fondled the man’s balls as he continued to pump his member. The older man’s groans gave way to desperate screams as his come continued to rain down on Mike.

It was only after the third and final cannonade that Harvey was well and truly spent. He collapsed back onto the edge of the couch, his chest heaving and his forehead damp with beads of sweat. Mike’s face was a complete mess, and come was dribbling down onto his shoulders and stomach.

“Mike…Mike…ohmygod, Mike,” Harvey muttered, taking in the sight of what he’d done to the younger man’s face.

“Harvey, can I ask you to do one more thing?”

“I don’t know…it might…be the death of me,” the older man replied, struggling to get his panting under control.

“Harvey, could you rub your cock on my face and then run it through my hair?”

Harvey shook his head with a grin and stood back up carefully. He took his cock in hand and did just as Mike requested, coating it with his own semen and then swiping it back and forth through the messy blond locks. He did that for a while, taking the opportunity to catch his breath. He eventually stopped and bent over to admire his handiwork.

“You look absolutely debauched, Mike. Christ, you blew my performance out of the water,” he said, stopping to chuckle at the double meaning.

“Thank you, Harvey. I know it’s a little weird-”

“No. No, that was perfect,” Harvey corrected, swiping some of his come off the tip of Mike’s nose and pushing the finger into his own mouth. “Now get up here so I can kiss you some more.”

Mike got up, his legs sore but used to the strain from all the cycling he did. Harvey smiled and simply wrapped his arms around the younger man, waiting for Mike to initiate. The exchange of control was palpable and Mike made sure to reciprocate for the earlier kisses with plenty of his own teeth and tongue. When he pulled back, Harvey was grinning like an idiot and he realized he was, too.

“So, are you hungry? How does Korean barbecue sound?”

Mike made no verbal response but kissed him again forcefully. He let go and Harvey nudged their foreheads together, apparently unbothered by the remnants of himself still there.

“Good. I’ll order and you can start the shower. It’s past the bedroom, through there,” he said, pointing to the doorway he’d passed earlier. “Unless you’d rather not wash off all that come?”

“No. I like it when it’s still wet but it’s a pain when it dries,” Mike grinned, kissing him one last time before they separated.

\-----

Donna halted, and the man underneath her started to fumble about for the light switch.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, clearly concerned.

“No, I’m sure it was nothing. Wait – did I say you could stop? Get back to work,” she admonished, pushing his head down.

\-----

Harvey heard the doorbell and pulled his robe on, grateful to himself for always keeping at least forty dollars in the right front pocket.

Mike was peeking about like he was looking for something, but Harvey decided they were both hungrier than he was curious. He opened the door for the deliveryman, who blushed like a fire hydrant when he got a glimpse of the customer. Harvey realized he hadn’t bothered to tie the terrycloth garb shut, but instead of freaking out simply handed over the wad of cash and took the bag himself, slamming the door shut again.

That was Mike’s fault, he reasoned – the natural consequence of mind-blowing sex. Mike had literally made Harvey fuck himself senseless into the younger man’s mouth. Harvey had had freaky sex partners before, but it usually took a few rounds to coax their kinks out. Mike, though, had been insistent enough to take action and ask for what he’d wanted. It was a quality that Harvey found unbelievably sexy.

“Mike,” he called, “food’s here. Get your ass in the kitchen.”

Mike emerged from the bedroom, blushing slightly. What the hell was that about? Wasn’t he the man who twenty-five minutes earlier had asked to have his face painted with Harvey’s semen?

“Harvey, do you have any clothes I could borrow?”

“Why on earth would you want to get dressed? Are you going to rush out of here?”

“No, it’s just that…I’m not really comfortable being naked.”

Harvey gave an incredulous look. “You sure fooled me, then. I don’t see why you should think that. You’re gorgeous, Mike.” At that he shrugged out of the robe and tossed it across the back of a chair. Mike turned a deeper shade of red. “Come sit down. I think we both worked up an appetite.”

Mike took the chair next to Harvey, and the latter man scooted so that the two seats were pushed together like a bench. He handed the younger man a pair of chopsticks and began passing him various containers. Harvey noticed Mike covering his penis with his hand, but eventually the kid needed both of them to eat.

“Tell me about yourself, Mike. How’d you end up at Pearson Hardman?” Harvey asked, plopping a mound of sticky rice onto his plate.

“Simple. I went to the interviews that day.”

“Don’t get sassy; you know what I meant,” Harvey warned with a look. He might need to cockslap the information out of him. “How did you get on her list? I thought she only invited Howard grads.”

Mike hesitated for a moment. “I took the slot of someone who didn’t show.”

“Clever. Still, why didn’t you go to any of the earlier interviews? Christ, you could have been my associate instead.”

“Yeah, but then this,” he said while gesturing to the spot where their thighs were pressed together, “would be even more wrong.”

“You said it yourself, Mike. I’m all sorts of wrong. And Pearson Hardman isn’t exactly the land of the virtuous and just.”

“I’m beginning to get that,” Mike replied, passing a piece of kimchi to his mouth.

“But a kid like you – weren’t all the firms trying to snatch you up your final year at Harvard? I mean, that deal you secured with the cancer patients? It was incredible for a rookie.”

“Rookie luck,” the other man said, grinning while reaching for some of the pajeori in the center of the table. “But do we have to talk about work?”

Harvey laughed and shook his head. “You’re right. But it’s just that I barely know you.”

“You mean you know me barely,” Mike said with a wink. He blushed again, though, when Harvey turned and began inspecting his body.

“Rene’s suits make everyone look good, but you don’t need the boost. Nice ass, by the way,” Harvey appraised, secretly enjoying the redness on Mike’s face. He reached behind Mike and groped his right cheek, admiring the firmness as he squeezed it. “Did Marie-”

“Yes. She did it with you, too?”

“Oh yeah. She said I had nice abs when she was writing down my measurements. I think that woman would work for Rene even if he wasn’t paying her.”

“Right?” Mike agreed, apparently thinking about how to fit the giant wedge of pork on his plate into his mouth.

“Here,” Harvey offered, stabbing the thing and giving Mike some resistance to break it with his chopsticks. “Can I ask about your family?”

“It’s just Grammy and me. Mom and dad passed in an accident when I was little,” Mike offered, hitching a little. Harvey said nothing but moved his hand to rub Mike’s back.

“I grew up in Brooklyn. I never crossed the bridge into Manhattan until I was seven. Grammy said that it would corrupt me,” he continued, his voice steadier again.

“Not from what I’ve seen,” Harvey assessed.

“Are you kidding me?! I told you I was a come freak half an hour ago,” Mike said, turning to Harvey with an incredulous expression.

“That’s a fetish, Mike. There’s nothing dirty about it; your brain is hardwired like that,” Harvey replied, tapping Mike’s temple with the handle of his chopstick. “Besides, you didn’t actually say that until just now.”

Mike started laughing.

“What is it?”

“I never thought I’d be so comfortable bringing up Grammy and my sexual interests in the same conversation.”

“That’s a little gross, Mike,” Harvey said, leaning away to dodge a playful punch to the arm.

“So tell me about you. What’s the Specter family like?” Mike asked, turning back to the food in front of him.

Harvey paused long enough that Mike turned to give him a quizzical look, his mouth stuffed with rice. Harvey poked his cheek and the younger man struggled to swallow the food, narrowing his eyes at him.

“My dad was the best. He played sax in a jazz band downtown. My brother, Marcus, is in Médecins Sans Frontières, treating people with malaria and dengue,” Harvey offered.

“And your mom?”

“She…wasn’t the best. She’s still alive, but I don’t really keep in contact with her. I’d rather not talk about it tonight,” he admitted with a sigh. Mike’s hand came to rest on his back, mimicking the consoling gesture from earlier.

“That comment earlier, when we were getting in the elevator-” Harvey started, hoping to shift over to a less depressing topic.

“Before you deep-throated me like it was nothing?”

“Don’t let it go to your head, rookie. Either one of them,” Harvey said, smirking. “You wouldn’t happen to be a Trekker, would you?”

Mike turned and looked at Harvey with an enormous smile. “Harvey Specter is a Trekkie. Who’d have thought?”

“Trekker. Get it right, kid. Anyway, who’s your favorite captain?” Harvey asked, snatching up the last of the mushrooms.

“I was a little worried that I had turned you off when I said it. And to answer your question: Picard,” Mike said, stacking some ginger on a piece of beef.

“Okay, that is a turn-off.”

“Why? Did you have a crush on Kirk or something?”

“Hey – Kirk’s the man, punk. At least until I took over that title.” Mike didn’t look at all convinced, so Harvey patted him on the head. “It’s alright, Mike. You just had to make do with an inferior reinterpretation of a classic.”

“Please,” Mike scoffed.

“You want me to prove my point? I have all the boxed sets.”

“Deal. You go get everything set up and I’ll take care of this,” Mike said, gesturing to the now nearly empty containers and barren plates.

\-----

What had started out like a hook-up had quickly morphed into some strange kind of backwards first date, Mike realized. He was sitting next to Harvey, his legs pulled up on his right side and the other man’s arm wrapped around him. Thankfully, Mike’s request for a blanket had been answered, so he wasn’t too chilly against the leather.

“Why don’t the redshirts ever learn their lesson?” Mike asked as another extra was gunned down.

“If they were smart enough to realize that then they’d be wearing a different color,” Harvey answered, rubbing Mike’s arm.

Mike was glad that he’d been able to get out of the questions about Harvard. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell Harvey about himself. In fact, it was just the opposite. He’d wanted to tell Harvey everything, including his secret. He even lied and said that he was ashamed of being naked, when the truth was he was guilty for letting Harvey think he was an actual lawyer with a real degree.

Well, the whole naked thing was kind of true, too – he hadn’t spent much time in the buck since he was a troublesome toddler.

“Everything alright, rookie?”

“Huh? Yeah. I’m just watching Kirk be the man.”

“So you admit that I was right?” Harvey asked, sounding vindicated.

“Maybe. I’m still sticking with Picard, though.”

“Suit yourself, kid. There’s no accounting for taste,” Harvey replied, pinching Mike’s ass.

Mike decided to return the teasing. Harvey raised an eyebrow then pressed the pause button on the remote. By the time he had set it down on the coffee table, however, Mike was already starting to flip him onto his back. The older man, surprised, gave in and let him crawl on top.

“Where on earth did you learn to do that?”

“Wrestling in high school,” he grinned.

“Hmm, I guess I’ll have to concede this round. Just know that you drained my battery – I won’t be able to get off again tonight.

“And here all I wanted was a little time to make out,” Mike replied, leaning in to suck on Harvey’s neck. “Bit presumptuous, aren’t you?”

Harvey urged him up so that they could kiss in earnest. Mike was just as exhausted as Harvey and knew that this fooling around wouldn’t lead much further than it already had. Still, Harvey was a good kisser and he wanted a chance to feel the man’s body when he wasn’t in a hurry. As he looked down, he noticed something peculiar.

“Harvey, this isn’t your natural skin tone, is it?”

“Why, am I too dark for you?”

“Very funny. It’s just that you don’t have any tan lines,” he said, rubbing along Harvey’s waist.

“Oh, that. I sun nude on the deck. Part of the whole living in the clouds thing.”

“Lord, you really are an exhibitionist, aren’t you?”

“Umm, have you already forgotten about the elevator ride?”

“Harvey, I don’t forget anything. Hell, I can’t forget anything except where I leave my phone.”

“What do you mean, Mike?” the older man asked, flipping them over. Of course Harvey would be able to do that.

“I have an eidetic memory. Once something’s in here,” he said, pointing to his head, “it’s committed for life.”

“It does have limits, though, right? Is it mainly just text?”

“Nope and nope. My first day, I replayed our little encounter as a carrot to get myself to finish the briefs I’d been given.”

“That’s amazing, Mike…and hot. A talent like that could have all sorts of uses.”

“Yeah, but it’s gotten me in trouble probably more times than I’ve used it for good.”

“Do you want to quote _Spiderman_ or should I?” Harvey asked, flipping them over again so that Mike was on top.

“The whole movie, Harvey? Sure, if you’d like…” Harvey reacted to that with a playful spank.

“No wonder Jessica hired you, then. When I first saw you I thought maybe she had taken a wager à la _My Fair Lady_.”

“Hey, I don’t know anything about the rain in Spain. And I didn’t look that bad, either. I actually made a conscious effort to clean myself up that morning.”

“ _You_ didn’t look bad – maybe a tad too scruffy. But that suit would have looked awful on anyone. You did destroy it, right?”

“It’s hanging in my closet,” Mike admitted. A few more (powerful) spanks followed. “Hey, that was excessive.”

“No it wasn’t, Mike. You can’t let Rene’s suits hang next to an abomination like that. We should probably talk about your ties again, too.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

“They’re too skinny.”

“Harvey, I’m skinny. Besides, Jessica told me not to get wider ones.”

“Mike, Jessica is a woman. Do you take all your clothing advice from women?” Harvey made to flip himself back on top, but Mike managed to hold his ground. “Do you have a skirt hidden away in your closet, too?”

“Nope. You’re into crossdressers?”

“No, I like my men manly. But if you haven’t thrown out that ugly thing and you wear skinny ties, there’s no telling what else could be lurking in that chamber of nightmares - a tutu, a used gimp suit, who knows what else.”

Mike stuck out his tongue. It was meant to be defiant, but Harvey used it as an excuse to start mauling him again. The younger man figured he’d allow it. Harvey was a damned good kisser.

“Now,” Harvey said, pulling away minutes later, “on the topic of manly men…” He reached for the remote and the galactic adventures continued.

Mike wasn’t quite ready to stop necking, but decided to let it go. He hadn’t seen these episodes in years and wanted to find out how well the other man knew them. The childish joy on Harvey’s face was pretty irresistible, too. Somewhat reluctantly, he sat up and they resumed their previous position under the blanket.

\-----

An hour later they decided to stop watching William Shatner ‘act’ and get some sleep; they still had work in the morning. Harvey led him back into the bathroom and bent over to grab something in the lower cabinets. Mike enjoyed the view before he decided he needed to get some answers.

“So, how does this work tomorrow? We get up and head into the office separately and act like nothing happened?” Mike asked, hoping he didn’t sound too desperate.

“That sounds about right,” Harvey replied, crawling in further and shaking his rump. Show-off.

“Okay.”

Harvey backed out and stood up again, holding a toothbrush still wrapped in plastic. “Hey, don’t sound hurt. We need to be careful. And I hoped you’d have already realized this, but I don’t want tonight to be a one-time thing. Watching Star Trek isn’t something I do with my one-night-stands,” he said, handing the brush to Mike.

Just like that, Mike was beaming again. He’d figured that would be the answer, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. He kissed Harvey and then tore open the plastic while the other man retrieved his own toothbrush.

“You have an extra suit at the office, I hope?” Harvey asked, squeezing out a dab of toothpaste.

“Yup.”

“Good. Then I don’t have to send you out at ass o’clock in the morning to go home and grab one,” Harvey said, handing the tube to Mike.

“You don’t mind having a rookie hog the sheets?”

“If you hog the sheets I’ll shove you onto the floor,” Harvey warned before sticking his brush in his mouth.

There was an amiable silence while they both brushed their teeth. Harvey finished first, pulling a lens case and solution out of the medicine cabinet. He walked to the other side of the sink and set about removing his contacts (a “concession to age,” he murmured). Mike spat out his toothpaste and rinsed off the brush. He memorized the sight of it standing beside Harvey’s in the holder.

Mike started for the bedroom, but Harvey spun him around and made out with him again for a few minutes. He eventually relented, settling for a sharp spank to Mike’s ass as they made their way to the bed.

As he sat down, Harvey made Mike go and retrieve his phone from the living room. They exchanged their respective devices, typing in their contact information. It was another testament to how strange their relationship was – they had shagged before exchanging a single text or phone call.

Task accomplished, they crawled into the layers of sheets piled on the enormous bed. Mike had expected the older man to roll away from him and have them sleep on sleep on separate sides. Harvey, however, was a cuddler(!), and Mike ended up falling asleep spooned in his arms.

\-----

Harvey awoke to the uncomfortable comfort of being too hot (Mike was a furnace) but not wanting to move away from the sleeping man in front of him. He turned his head and looked at the clock. It was only 5:35, but he figured he’d better start getting up. He at least wanted to make breakfast – he almost never let someone spend the night, but it was part of his gentleman’s code to feed her or him on the odd occasion it happened.

Carefully extracting himself from Mike, he made for the kitchen. He smiled when he spotted the younger man’s blue jockstrap lying behind one of the chairs in the living room. He would have kept it as a souvenir, but Mike didn’t have any extra underwear to change into and he clearly needed all the support he could get. The thought of what else lay in Mike’s underwear drawer made him shudder, but he willed himself to focus on the ingredients he’d need for pancakes.

He was quietly dolloping batter onto the griddle when his phone buzzed. He finished allotting the spoonfuls of mix and reached for it, rolling his eyes when he read the sender’s name.

From: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 5:46 AM

_We need to talk. Call me as soon as you can._

Harvey decided to let her stew until he arrived at the office. Oddly, he wasn’t upset about the fact that their plan had gone balls-up. Getting hooked on Mike was probably the safest addiction available to Harvey, assuming they could fool Jessica.

Harvey rewound to that subconscious admission. Was he already hooked on Mike? He hadn’t felt a connection like this to anyone since he couldn’t even remember. Here he was, standing in his kitchen cooking pancakes when he’d normally be heading for the gym after a night’s sleep alone in his bed. They’d even watched Shatner together when they hadn’t made out like desperate teenagers. Fuck, should he tamp down on the brakes? The whole idea of last night was to get over the younger man, not start something bigger. Maybe he should call Donna, he thought.

Just then, he heard the pitter-patter of footsteps. Sure enough, Mike was walking towards the table, his naked body glorious in the morning sunlight. Harvey wasn’t sure where this was headed, but a sight like that made him want to take a chance.

“Good morning, rookie. Have a seat. You get to enjoy my amazing pancakes,” he said, flicking the said objects onto a plate.

“Morning. What makes them amazing?” Mike asked, discovering his jockstrap and going to retrieve it. Damn. Harvey wanted to enjoy seeing the brat naked a little longer.

“I only make them for people who let me rock their world,” he answered, now going to grab the orange juice. Harvey looked up and caught the consolation prize of Mike’s underwear: the straps framed his butt perfectly. That made him sure of one thing: he couldn’t wait to really jackhammer the kid stupid.

“And what else?”

“There’s Nutella in them.”

“Score! I should do this more often,” Mike joked as he sat down.

“You really should,” Harvey said as he snapped one of the straps, enjoying the sound it made on impact.

They sat and ate together, Harvey reading bits of the news between bites while Mike admired the view through the penthouse’s floor-to-ceiling windows. They were almost finished when Harvey’s phone started ringing.

“It’s probably Donna. They woman never gives me a moment’s peace.”

“I dunno,” Mike said. “We slept pretty peacefully last night.”

“That’s because you managed to coax three orgasms out of me with a single blowjob. We need to figure out how that happened, by the way,” Harvey said as he walked back to the counter, “so I can return the favor.”

Harvey watched as Mike grinned and made for the last pieces of pancake on his plate before picking up the phone. When he heard the voice on the other end, his assuredness quickly disappeared.

_“Morning Harvey. Guess who? I managed to get a room at the Plaza out of Darby – no idea how that happened. You should stop by: Room 432._

_Oh, and by the way, we’re on opposite sides for the Ritsoff divestiture. Catch you later.”_

Scottie hung up before he could say anything. Mike turned to look at him and obviously caught the change in mood.

“Mike, go get dressed. Your suit’s the first one on the right side in the walk-in.”

“Harvey, are you-”

“Please, Mike. Go get dressed.”

The younger man nodded and hurried off to the bedroom. Harvey turned back to face the kitchen cabinets and set the phone down. He slammed his fist on the granite countertop and remained still for a few minutes.

\-----

Mike tried to think of who could have called as he pulled on his trousers. Donna wouldn’t have elicited that kind of response. It was unlikely that Jessica had already figured out what was going on. He didn’t think she lived in this part of town, not that he had any idea where her home actually was.

Then again, it wouldn’t have taken much for someone to contact her. Were any Pearson Hardman employees living in any of the six or so nearby high-rises, they no doubt would have jumped at the opportunity to rat the two men out. The conversations almost certainly would have gone something like:

_Hey Ms. Pearson, how’s things? Oh, by the way, your number two sucked off your associate and it was a bigger hullabaloo than Times Square on New Year’s._

Mike cursed himself and looked back to his surroundings. His tie was lying messily on the floor, the only part of the ensemble not carefully and meticulously hung the previous night. He picked it up with a morose smile and left the closet, looking for a mirror. As he passed the doorway of the bedroom he caught sight of Harvey, silently fuming in the same spot he’d been in when he’d booted Mike. The younger man wanted to go to him, but didn’t feel like he knew him well enough yet. Instead, he opted to finish dressing.

By the time Mike had flattened out the skinny bit of fabric and thrown his jacket and shoes on, Harvey had migrated to the closet. Mike stood and waited for him to say something. The older man simply gave him a peck on the lips. It wasn’t the same as the night before, more an afterthought. Mike nodded as they broke apart and then walked out of the apartment.

He didn’t know what to feel as he stepped into one of the regular lifts. More than that, though, he didn’t know to whom he could speak. Now he had two secrets to keep up. At least with his professional one he could speak with Wendy. This relationship (if it hadn’t already ended) was just between him and Harvey. No doubt Donna would discover it eventually, but Mike still didn’t know if he could trust her entirely.

Upon exiting the building, Mike opted to walk to work. It was seasonably warm and Harvey’s condo was conveniently close to the firm. Still, by the time he got to the lobby of the latter building, he was unsettled; he knew he’d be lucky to get any work accomplished that day, a contrast to the clarity he had felt the prior evening.

“Morning, Steve,” he said, cognizant of trying not to ruin another relationship on the same day.

“Good morning, Mr. Ross,” the guard replied with a smile and a nod.

The lobby was uncharacteristically quiet. He checked his watch and saw that he was quite early. He turned his attention back to waiting for one of the sets of steel doors to open.

“Mike,” a voice called out. He turned to see Donna rushing towards him, two large cups of coffee in her hands and a bag swinging to the pace of her footsteps.

“Good morning, Donna.” It came out just as forced as his earlier greeting.

“I’m afraid that might not be the case, Mike. I’ve been trying to get into contact with Harvey, but he hasn’t called me back yet.”

“Huh? What’s going on?”

“Oh nothing. Just that a lying, manipulative witch flew here from London on her broomstick,” the redhead replied, attempting to shift both the cups to one hand. Mike took them from her and tried to figure out what that was supposed to mean while she dug out her phone.

“And FYI, don’t think you’re getting out of explaining why you’re wearing the same clothes as last night,” she said while typing furiously.

He didn’t even blush at that. When the doors opened, Donna took the coffee back from him. She paused and then gave him a strong, deep hug. “Kid, you look like hell. Just make it to the end of the day.”

“Thanks, Donna.”

“Hey, there has to be a reason why everybody loves me, right? Oh, and be sure to change your suit.” With that, she rushed off towards her boss’ office.

Mike went to do just that, aware even Wendy hadn’t come in yet. He grabbed the garment bag and made for the handicap-accessible restroom with the locking door. When he’d changed his clothes out he gave himself the first real examination of the day. His hair was a bit of a mess from not showering when he woke up. As he hurriedly tried to restrain the errant strands, he noticed the hollowness in his eyes. By the time he’d finished primping, his hands were shaking, and he had to stop and take controlled breaths.

He hung the other suit up and went to his cubicle. Associates were filing in now, and he prayed that they wouldn’t act like fratboys for once. Thankfully, both Devon and Jeffrey were nursing hangovers, so at least there would be others interested in maintaining some peace and quiet. He began combing through new emails to help himself block out his surroundings.

“Mike?” a voice called minutes later. It was Wendy, waiting by his desk.

“What is it, boss lady?” he asked with a half-true smile.

“Jessica wants you in her office. There’s a new case that came in last night.”

“Got it,” he said as he stood and followed after her. Neither of them made any further attempt at conversation. As they approached Jessica’s corner office, Mike was shocked to see both Harold and Harvey sitting on her couch.

“Good. Now we’re all here,” Jessica said, standing up from behind her desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah. Feel free to give me feedback on the sexy time. There'll be more smut relatively soon and I'd like to know if there's anything I should change about my writing so I can revise that ahead of posting.
> 
> Who would have thought the most outlandish part of this chapter would be Korean BBQ takeout? C'mon NYC, it's like the greatest post-coital meal imaginable and there still aren't any decent restaurants that deliver it.


	6. Just Say Yes

Jessica Pearson looked at the three men in front of her in her office. Well really just one and one-third, since Mike was two-thirds of a man and Harold was a negative third. The important thing was the intensely awkward feeling pervading her office. Mike and Harvey could barely look at one another. Perfect.

“Harvey, it’s come to my attention that your opposing council in the divestiture case has changed.”

“Did Donna tell you that?”

“No. Darby International sent over a number of documents this morning and Wendy informed me of the switch. Do you think facing Dana Scott is a good idea?”

“You’re not taking me off the case, Jessica. I’ll beat Scottie again just like I did the other times.”

“That’s just it – your record against her is far from sterling. You managed to sway a judge into granting a dismissal by the skin of your teeth the first time around, and the second time you avoided an impossible trial by enticing two opposing CEOs into a merger.”

Harvey grinned at her words. “So then you realize that having an unorthodox fighter is the perfect defense against her equally devious tactics? Or would you suggest throwing Louis into this? Because as much as he’ll get the financial aspect right, Scottie will wrap him around her finger and then shake him until our client has paid every last penny for a useless non-asset.”

“I was thinking about taking it on myself, Harvey, which would free you up to finish your other work. But since I have the feeling you’d say no to that as well, I have an alternative proposal.”

“Which is?”

“You will take Mike as your associate on this case. You will use his services actively and take him along on your meetings. In return, Harold will have the time he needs to finish that pro bono that you dumped on him despite my order that you not do so. As a sweetener,” she said, grimacing, “I will accept that he is your associate and that maybe you weren’t inebriated when you hired him.”

“Jessica, I don’t want Mike on this case. He’s not my associate and he has no business getting involved with Scottie.”

The man in question, who had been busily memorizing the pattern of the carpeting, turned to look at the senior partner.

“Mike has already demonstrated himself to be a more than capable associate. I have a feeling you’ll need a fast reader, since Darby partners have a habit of trying to bury the enemy in paper. There isn’t anyone who can get through documents faster than him.” Harvey still didn’t seem convinced, so reluctantly Jessica decided to move from persuasion to coercion. “Oh, and you’ll accept it, because I’m your boss and if you reject my offer I’ll make you do whatever the hell I want anyway.”

“Jessica, maybe I’ll run against you the next time we have elections to choose the managing partner,” Harvey shot back, his jaw tightening.

“An election you’ll lose since every partner either envies or loathes you; everyone excepting me, that is. I know just how much weight to put on the boot on your neck. Since you don’t have another choice, I’m going to go ahead and let the three of you get to work,” she offered, retreating to her seat.

Harvey turned and left first. Jessica had a feeling that if he could’ve slammed the door he would have done so. Mike followed after shortly, leaving a rather antsy Harold. Jessica decided to ignore him until the brat spoke up.

“Ms. Pearson, may I ask you a favor?” Backbone, from Harold?

“Haven’t I done enough for you already, Harold?”

“Well, it’s just that the pro bono you gave Harvey involves a ladies’ salon and massage parlor, and seeing as how I’m a man, it might be a little difficult to conduct an investigation to confirm the client’s allegations. I also want to seek out additional clients to join the lawsuit.”

Damn, the kid almost sounded like a lawyer.

“You can’t just go in drag?” Jessica asked, wondering how far she could string him along in a gag.

“I um…don’t think I have the soft features for that.”

“And here I was thinking of asking you to be Lady Justice for the holiday party,” she announced, pretending to be busy reading a memo about the upcoming fire drill.

“What? Really?! In that case, I guess I could ask Donna to help string something together…”

Jesus, this was way too easy. “No, no. You’ve already ruined it, Harold. I’ll just have to ask Mike instead. Take Wendy with you. I should be able to manage for the morning, and it’s not like Harvey could function without Donna.”

“Thank you, Ms. Pearson.”

“Don’t bother. Just get to work,” she replied hastily while reaching for the intercom. “I trust you heard all that, Wendy. I’ll need you back by 2:00 when the mailroom guy gets here.”

\-----

“Mr. Specter, wait up!” Mike called, chasing after the older man as he strode toward his office.

At the very least Harvey knew he needed some alone time to process everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. The last thing he wanted was for Mike to get into his disastrous relationship with Scottie. He tried hard to forget as much of it as he could himself.

They passed Donna on the way; much as she tried to hide her concern, Harvey could see it in her eyes. Christ, she’d demand a conversation, too. This might be the longest Friday of his life. He opened his door and Jessica’s associate followed him inside his office.

“Mike, just go to your cubicle. Forget what Jessica said and I’ll take the blame. I don’t need anyone’s help on this and I’m sure you must have something else to do.”

“When Jessica tells me to do something I need to do it. Besides, she’s cleared my schedule so I’d have nothing else to do but help Devon file briefs in his hung-over stupor.”

“Then why don’t you do that?!” Harvey snapped, snatching up his briefcase and making for the door. He turned to see Donna shaking her head with wide, threatening eyes, and he knew better than to try and argue with that.

“Mr. Specter, please. I promise I’ll stay in the corner and take notes if that’s what you want – I just need for something to go the way it’s supposed to right now. My personal life is a bit crazy at the moment,” he pleaded with a slight laugh.

Fuck. He hadn’t even thought of what was going on in Mike’s head. Much as he didn’t want to, Harvey knew he’d better surrender to the plea. “Fine. Grab your bag and meet me downstairs. We’re headed to the Plaza.”

By the time they got outside Ray was already by the curb. He needed to give the man a(nother) bonus.

“You just can’t keep away from me, can you boss?” he cracked, though his attention was obviously drawn to the blond following behind.

“Ray, meet Mike. He’s Jessica’s associate, but he’ll be tagging along with me for this. Mike, meet Ray. He’s my driver.”

“Hi, Mike. So, we’re off to the Plaza, huh? I’ve never been inside there, and the pull-up in front’s an absolute mess.”

“Tough it out, Ray,” he said, opening the door. Surprisingly, Mike already knew to get in the other side.

“Jessica won’t scoot, either,” he predicted.

“Of course not, scooting is for story time in elementary school.”

“So I see you’re already used to Harvey’s irritable streak, huh Mike?”

“Yes, though he means well.”

Mike was so damned forgiving. Harvey was starting to feel guilty and that was the worst emotion to have before a meeting with opposing council, especially this opposing council.

“A perceptive one we got here, Harvey.”

“Yes, Jessica wouldn’t have hired him otherwise.”

“Ugh, that woman is reserved and all, but she gets under my skin right at the fear nerve. I don’t know how you put up with her on a daily basis, Mike.”

“Well, I’m with you guys today,” he said as he turned to Harvey and laughed, his nerves still showing.

\-----

“Harold, I don’t know about this.”

The associate had waited patiently while Jessica’s assistant had finished up her morning duties and then they’d journeyed down to a dingy-looking salon in Chelsea. There was a mosaic of signs in Vietnamese obscuring the windows and a litany of cigarette butts littering the sidewalk on an otherwise clean street.

“C’mon Wendy, you should be jumping at the chance to do this for me. All you have to do is relax, get a manicure and a facial scrub or something, and record what the owner says to the staff. We need to have some leverage to get them to settle with our client. To do that we need evidence of her being abusive to her employees.”

“Yeah, but these places are always trying to get me to buy their hair to stick in mine. It makes me uncomfortable. Why am I doing this alone, again?”

“Because nobody else would say yes and I was so desperate I had to ask Jessica. Do you think I would have done that if there was another option?”

“So I’m your last choice? What you’re saying is I’m at the bottom of the mental stack of women you’d choose to assist you?” she asked, folding her arms to emphasize her point.

“Would you have agreed to do this voluntarily if Jessica hadn’t forced you?”

“Fine. But I need some consideration.”

“Such as?”

“You’re buying me lunch, at the very least. Oh, and the next time Harvey pulls some bullshit, you’re responsible for cleaning it up before Jessica finds out. I’m tired of always being the one who has to try and calm her down after she’s stepped on one of his landmines.”

“I can do the first, but we both know I can’t stop Harvey from doing something reckless. You’d need to get Donna to promise that.”

“It’s going to be an expensive lunch, then. You’ll be nearby while I’m inside? Good,” she said, assuaged by the furiously nodding blond. “See you in a couple hours.”

\-----

“Harvey! It’s so good to see you…oh, I see you brought someone else along. And who might you be?”

Mike struggled to answer after he realized the woman standing aside the open door wasn’t wearing a bra under her white dress shirt. Just what kind of negotiation was this, anyway? Was this why Harvey didn’t want Mike tagging along – was he cockblocking Harvey Specter?

“Mike Ross. I’m actually Ms. Pearson’s associate, but I’m helping Mr. Specter out,” he said, cursing himself for saying anything more than his name. He couldn’t keep his cool with the way Harvey was acting.

“Hmm, is that so? You must be losing your touch Harvey, needing a younger man to help you out. I seem to remember you being perfectly capable on your own in the past.”

“I suppose you’d be the most experienced judge of that,” he retorted as they moved towards the table in the suite.

“Really? Harvey Specter is calling me out for sleeping with too many people? Here’s a tip, Mike,” she said, turning to him, “the most stable relationship this man has is with his secretary. He’ll probably end up marrying her when he’s fifty and desperate. You should stick to working with Jessica, because at the end of the day it’s all about him.”

“So proffers Dana Scott, the woman who married and divorced in two years’ time. You spent more time as an associate than you did as a wife.”

Mike really, _really_ wished he could be back in the associates’ pool right about now. Even Louis’ office seemed like paradise compared to this hotel room. The air was stifling and he turned his gaze desperately to avoid making eye contact with either partner, instead withdrawing a legal pad from his bag so he’d have something to occupy his mind.

“That only goes to show that I can commit to someone and you can’t,” the woman replied coldly.

“Scottie, let’s just get to business. Tell me your counter-offer and I’ll let you know whether we’ll bother to stay and haggle.”

“We want a fifteen percent increase on your proposal. That branch of the business is worth more than $230,000,000, and we both know it. We also object to you trying to force us to lock in employee contracts on our own dime. If you want the upper management, you’ll have to take care of winning them over on your own.”

Harvey rolled his eyes but sat up in his chair. Mike pulled out a pen and started listing some of the relevant facts as he heard them. Jessica hadn’t even given him a brief beforehand and the senior partner beside him didn’t bother to enlighten him in the car.

“There’s no way that branch of the business is as valuable as you’re asking. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be selling it.”

“If it wasn’t as valuable as we’re saying it is they’d just spin it off or fire all the employees and sell the properties separately. Come on, Harvey, remember how you fell asleep in M&A our second year and had to borrow my notes? You shouldn’t be making these amateur mistakes.”

“But I did, and I know Ritsoff has no liquidity and a mountain of debt. Which means that you’re in no position to be asking favors of my client. In fact, we should be offering less,” Harvey said, opening his briefcase and retrieving a sheet of paper. “On that theory we’ve withdrawn our initial offer and replaced it with a more appropriate one.”

“One hundred and eighty? Is this a joke, Harvey? There are ten other companies just begging to snap up this section of the business. If you’re not going to take this seriously, I’ll…”

“Scottie, we both know you had no intention of taking this seriously. Don’t get upset when I actually do my job instead of indulging your fantasies of what this encounter would be like.”

“Harvey, I’m warning you. I’ll advise our client to scratch yours off the list and the egg will be on your face if that happens.”

“And what would you have done if he wasn’t here?” Harvey asked, pointing at Mike. “Unbutton your shirt, lure me back to the bed, and have me sign off on a form post-coitus so you could run back to Darby and brag about how you finally beat me? Because I’m two-and-zero against you, and just like the number of your divorces that score is only going to increase.”

Oh snap.

“I’m not the one who needed to bring a baby with him to keep his pants on. Oh wait, that was Jessica’s doing,” she guessed with narrowed eyes. “You know what they say about a man who takes orders from a woman, don’t you? I guess you’ll find out, anyway, once this is all over. Our other documents should arrive at your office shortly. The door’s behind you,” the woman finished, gesturing with a finger.

Mike turned to Harvey expecting a comeback but was disappointed to see a stony non-expression. The senior partner silently obeyed the command and once again Mike followed behind him like a nervous puppy. There was a definite contrast between Jessica and Harvey’s styles, and he had to say he rather liked being Jessica’s associate if this was the norm for working with the man.

“C’mon, rookie,” Harvey said once Scottie had slammed the door shut and they were halfway down the hallway. “Ray’s waiting for us. I texted him to circle the block because we wouldn’t be long.”

“So you knew it was going to be like that?”

“Mike, I don’t have ESP, but Scottie is as transparent as the door of my office. Why Darby made her a senior partner I’ll never know. Anyway, that wasn’t the end of it. I just needed to get us some time before she calls back with the next offer.”

“So it’s back to the office to go through the files they’re sending?”

“Eventually. Before that, I need some coffee and we need to talk.”

We need to talk, huh? Mike swallowed grimly.

\-----

Harold flipped over another page of the client’s testimony and let out a sigh. He’d gnawed through his pumpkin bread forty minutes earlier and was struggling to get through the heart-wrenching tale of abuse before him. He looked up to find Wendy crossing the street. Her nails were fluorescent green and she looked simultaneously relieved and irritated.

“Harold, it’s time for lunch.”

“But it’s still only five to eleven. Did you get what we need?”

“It’ll be close enough to lunch hour by the time we sit down. And, yes, but not what I wanted,” she said, turning her hands and recoiling at the sight. “I got so nervous I agreed to whatever came out of their mouths and ended up with green nails. You’re paying for me to have these fixed, on top of the food.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s grab a cab and we’ll go wherever you want.”

“Those are the sweetest words I’ve ever heard. And just so we’re clear, if I ever choose to add “Cleopatra Jones” to my resume, you’ll be my reference.”

They hopped into the first taxi and Wendy fired off an address to the driver. They headed downtown and eventually ended up at some posh-looking retrofitted factory not far from the beating pulse of SoHo. Harold grimaced, knowing his wallet, still sore from rookie expenses, would be taking another hit. Still, he did owe her.

“Harold, can I ask you something?” Wendy started as he paid the driver and they got out.

“Umm, this will be an uncomfortable lunch if I don’t allow you to talk.”

“Why are you so skittish in the office? You seem perfectly capable now that it’s just us.”

“Well, there’s Louis, Kyle, and Jessica for starters,” he tossed out for her.

“Mm-mm,” the assistant warned, shaking her head. “Don’t go saying bad things about my boss. And I know it’s not just that.”

“It’s impossible to be normal with Harvey Specter as my boss. The man wins every case and I feel like I’m not contributing. Sometimes I feel like I’m not being mentored at all. It’s like he expects me to have every box checked already,” he admitted as the hostess greeted them.

“There’s no one perfect form of mentoring, Harold.”

The three of them started walking towards the back and Harold looked up to see a hanging garden above them and dappled light spilling in from high windows down onto the tables. There was a man on a catwalk watering the pots from which enormous vines entangled.

“Oh, no wine glasses, please. We’re not _Mad Men_ ,” Wendy advised the man setting the table. “I picked this place because I’m testing it for the firm’s late summer party. Rachel was raving about it to Donna,” she slipped when he’d turned and left.

“But there is a difference between being a mentor and being just a boss,” Harold continued. “I don’t know if Harvey gets that.”

“You did flub up your first meeting with one of his clients. Maybe he’s trying to give you some extra time to get over that before he presents you with another opportunity? You should be a little more grateful for that – most bosses probably would have tossed you out the door for that kind of mistake.”

“Still, I wonder what it would be like to have a different partner as my overseer. I could switch over to Wills and Trusts. Most of their clients don’t care about what the lawyer looks like or how he sounds; they just want to make the will or get the money from the will.”

“If you settled for that you’d almost be better off finding some private practice in Astoria. You’d climb up the ladder a lot faster.”

“Yeah, but-”

“But you went to Harvard and you want to be a big shot at a big firm. Which is why you should stick with Harvey. If Jessica really thought he was ignoring you or not performing his responsibilities as a mentor, she’d give him a swirlie.”

“Hmm. You said you were nervous earlier. I’ve never seen you nervous in your life.”

“You haven’t known me all that long. I have issues with being in situations like those women in that salon – trying to make ends meet month after month. The one who painted my nails is a single mother who’s responsible for looking after a baby while earning minimum wage, if that. Add an aggressive bunch of hire-ups and I think I might crack.”

“You work at a law firm. And Louis is down the hall from your desk.”

“So now you know why I avoid that man whenever possible,” she smirked.

The waiter came and took their orders and Harold was about ready to start on the story of his battle with the mosquito in his bedroom the previous night when Wendy piped up again. “Do you want to know about the first time Jessica met Harvey and me?”

“Is the Pope a Catholic?” Harold replied, suddenly at full attention.

\-----

The drama in the office was stifling, and neither Harvey nor Mike was actually in the building. Ugh. Donna had a feeling that if Scottie hadn’t reared her ugly head everything would be okay right now. But she had and it wasn’t. The assistant needed some tea so she could think through her next steps. She wasn’t sure if Harvey would be able to pull himself out of his foul mood.

Still, she’d managed to impart some knowledge into that brain of his, and she definitely picked up on the ‘something major happened’ vibe he’d sent out via his appearance. Come on, a salmon tie layered on an eggshell shirt – he might as well have hired a squire to announce to the office.

Donna carefully surveyed the hallway before she got up. Devon and that other associate would probably be out of commission, but she needed to avoid Clara from M&A. The woman was neck deep in a messy situation with the coffee cart guy and Donna’s forces were spread thin as it was. Quiet, but not suspiciously so, Donna arose and made her way for the kitchen.

It should have been a quick operation: get in, boil, dunk, and get out again. There was one major roadblock, though. When Donna walked in, Louis spun around with a carton of creamer in one hand and his tiny golden spoon in the other.

“Donna, good morning.”

“Good morning, Louis. Making your own coffee?”

“Unfortunately. None of the associates know how to get a cup to be ninety-seven degrees exactly. I’d have thrown the stuff in their faces if not for the warning Jessica gave me about doing that.”

“Is that so?” Donna continued mindlessly, making her way to the kettle. The fresh coffee stains in the sink did not escape her gaze.

“So, Donna, I couldn’t help but notice that Mike and Harvey left the office together. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Afraid not, Louis. You could always try asking Jessica, though.”

“Don’t lie to me, Donna. I know you know everything, and you’re going to tell me what’s going on between them,” he warned as she did an about-face to stare him down.

“Why would I do that, Louis?”

“Because I’ve hidden all the tea bags and I won’t let you have one until you do.”

Damn. Time for Plan B: she’d need to resort to lachrymosity.

“How could you do that to me, Louis? You’re just going to shake me down like I’m some litigant after all we’ve been through together? And on a day like this, too?” She started to squeeze on her ducts as she feigned anguish.

“What? No, Donna, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Are all the men in this office so damned cruel? So nasty that you make cup after cup of coffee only to throw them out again while you wait to ambush me? Maybe I should file that sexual harassment complaint after all,” she considered aloud, a single tear falling down her left cheek.

“No, Donna. Look, this never happened okay? The tea bags are in the cabinet over the refrigerator. You came in here and it was empty and you made tea and then you were happy,” he said tamping his open hands through the air as he backed out of the room.

Donna smirked as she reached up to grab the box nearest the front. She had only begun the process when she heard heels. Clara? No, too gentle. The cadence was…Rachel’s.

“Hey, Donna. What did you say to Louis? He nearly bowled over Kyle he was so rushed to get to his office,” she asked, although the way she was holding her neck at an angle beckoned a conversation anyway.

“Oh nothing much, really. Just playing on his emotional fragility and completely ass-backwards methods of extracting information without yelling. By the way, did you have a good night?”

“It started out that way. But that bartender was all ‘wham, bam’ in the sack, and I got scrunched against the headboard like a slinky.”

“Tylenol?” Donna offered, having retrieved it mid-sentence.

“Yes, thanks. How about you?”

“Nah, nothing of note happened. Someone has to be alert this morning.”

“Do you know where Harold and Harvey are? I did some precedent research for the pro bono they’re working but I can’t find either one of them.” Rachel panned around and then leaned in towards Donna. “You don’t think Harvey bedded Harold and now they’re playing hookie, do you?”

Donna’s laughter could be heard from Staten Island.

\-----

“Where to, boss?”

“Cavendish,” Harvey replied as he and Mike buckled their seats. The latter man still seemed jittery, and now that Harvey tried to imagine what he was thinking he couldn’t blame the kid.

“Mike, I guess I owe you an apology,” Ray started, looking in the rearview mirror briefly before returning his focus to the road as he pulled away from the curb.

“Huh? What are you talking about, Ray?”

“Well, the first time I saw you I didn’t know you. I just saw some schmuck biking to work in a suit. I think I called you a clown. You don’t seem half-bad, though.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ray. I guess I do look a little silly compared to all the other employees, though, don’t I? Still, I couldn’t stand taking the subway to work all year.”

“A little silly?” Harvey mocked as he checked his phone. “More importantly, Ray, since when have you ever used the word ‘schmuck’?”

“Hey, I came to New York, not the other way around. I gotta talk like the locals, if only to avoid getting screwed on my lease.”

“You know I looked that over for you, anyway.” Harvey turned to his side and saw Mike sneak a smile out the window at his confession.

“So,” Ray continued as they reached an intersection, “anything you want to listen to, boss?”

“Would you bring up the sports radio station? I missed the game last night – I was a little busy with something else.” Mike’s reflection in the window reddened noticeably. Embarrassing him might have been inappropriate, but it gave Harvey back some of his control over the situation. It was also kind of fun.

When they pulled up in front of the café, Harvey wasn’t surprised to see a look of astonishment on Mike’s face. It wasn’t exactly the fanciest spot in town, but it had provided a home of sorts to Harvey before he was rich.

“We’re going inside? _You’re_ actually going inside this place?” Mike asked, hesitating on the sidewalk.

Harvey decided to ignore him and enter. “Hi, Yolanda. Large Americano,” Harvey said to the owner, waiting for the sound of the door swinging open again. “Better make that two.”

“You think you can just step in and order like that, Harvey? Get your white ass over here,” she said, walking around the counter and pulling him into one of her famously strong hugs. “I haven’t seen you in person in ages. Hell, I barely see Donna anymore now that she doesn’t live in Harlem anymore.”

“Well, I needed a quiet place to talk to someone and I figured here’d work.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and pointed to the stairs. She’d never let him pay but he dropped a ten-dollar bill in the tip jar. “Hurry up, Mike.”

They sat at a small table in the nearly empty upstairs and Mike had the same grim look about him as he’d had earlier when Harvey had seized up in the kitchen. Acting on instinct, he leaned across and kissed him, and not that wimpy little peck he’d given him in his walk-in.

“So, you’re not calling us off?” Mike said with a note of pleasant surprise when they’d drawn back.

“I’m a lot of things, Mike, but fickle isn’t one of them. I am trying to work out everything that’s happened, though. Besides, you should already know from the office gossip that I can be a real bastard. It comes with being awesome.”

“I don’t know about that,” Yolanda said with a smirk, placing their coffee on the table. “Would you bug Wendy to call me soon when you get back to the office?”

“Will do. Yolanda is Wendy’s older sister, Mike.”

“Yup, I got the looks and the stereotypical name, she got the brains,” the woman confirmed. “Don’t bother with introductions, Mike. She’s already told me all about you.”

“Nothing but praise, I hope?”

“Uhh…something like that,” she slipped enigmatically, turning and heading back down to the ground level.

“Wait, is everyone at Pearson Hardman connected?” Mike asked of him now.

“Jessica met me in this place. I was still trying to figure out what to do with my life. Sometimes you get lucky,” Harvey explained, punctuating that last bit by putting his hand on Mike’s.

“Alright. You’re going to give me that whole story some other time. What I want to know is why our meeting got so weird so fast. What happened with you and Scottie?”

“No,” Harvey replied flatly.

“Harvey, you need to tell me something! How am I supposed to help on this case when I’m missing all the subtext?”

“You were never supposed to be on this case in the first place, Mike, or did you forget that while you were busy remembering everything else?” the older man fired back, withdrawing his hand.

“But I am now, and I need to know at least a little bit. Would you really have hopped in the sack with her if I hadn’t been there with you?”

“Stop prying, Mike. You need to separate your private life from your work persona.”

“People who live in glass houses-” Mike muttered into his coffee.

Harvey rolled his eyes at that but grunted his admittance, and Mike seemed to relax. “Now I see the other reason why Jessica hired you, kid. You can be a real pain in the ass when you want to be,” he smirked.

“You have no idea,” the younger man said, sticking out his tongue.

“That was dreadful. Fine, I’ll answer one question.”

“You already know what it is. What happened between you and Scottie?”

“She did something to me and after that we were never the same. Are you happy?”

“I need more than that.”

“I’m not going to dredge up all of it just to give you something to use against me, Mike.”

“I’m not fighting you, Harvey. Can’t you see that I’m trying to help? I need you to open up a little more with me. Please?”

Harvey shut his eyes and rubbed the lids with his index finger and thumb. He was pissed with a lot of people right now: Jessica for shoving Mike onto him this morning, Donna for stopping him from ditching the kid, Mike for tearing at his stitches. Still, they weren’t the cause of all of this mess.

“Alright, and this is all you’re getting from me, so don’t you dare ask for more. Scottie and I were in the same class at Harvard. You know how it is: stressful all the time – even for a genius like me.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Are you going to exalt yourself throughout your stories?”

“Of course. Moving on, we got to know each other. Back then she was smart and kind of dorky. She relied more on her head than on her body. We studied for a test together the second week and we became a thing. After law school, though, I headed off for the DA’s office and she went to London.”

“You worked at the DA’s office?”

“Another time, Mike. We had a few encounters since, but…there was a particular night that changed things. When we were re-dressing ourselves she pulled an engagement ring out of her purse and slipped it back on her finger.”

“You mean?”

Harvey nodded gravely.

“I’m sorry, Harvey…I mean Mr. Specter. If I’d known I wouldn’t have-”

“Mike, if I’m kissing you then it’s ‘Harvey’. Now that I think about it I’m actually glad that you were there. Not to get involved with her, mind you, but you did help me remember that it’s not about Scottie and me. It’s about the client. Well, in another half hour it will be,” he judged, checking his watch. “How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“Are you sure? I know I must have thrown you for a loop this morning,” he said, moving his hand to Mike’s thigh and starting a gentle massage.

“It’s okay. I have a friend like Scottie. Well, I had a friend like that. Jessica commanded me to give him up.”

“This business can be rough, and the competition will use everything they can against you. When Jessica tells you to do something, despite what she says, it’s not just for her.”

“You’re right, Harvey.”

“Of course I am, Mike. In fact, I’m always right and, as you said youself, all sorts of wrong.”

Mike rolled his eyes again, then startled. “Can you stop that?” he asked as he moved his hand to still Harvey’s.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, I do,” now lowering his voice to a whisper, “but you’re giving me an erection.”

At that Harvey increased the force of his thigh massage. “This is why I don’t hook up with younger guys, Mike. There’s not an ounce of self-control among the lot of you,” he lectured, moving his hand closer to the associate’s crotch.

The younger man gave him pleading eyes and reluctantly Harvey stopped. Still, he’d drag out the torment a little bit. “Now that I know you can remember everything, Mike, I know you won’t be able to resist recalling how good my hand felt just now. And that you won’t stop imagining how good the blowjob I would have given you in that bathroom would have been.” Mike let out a soft, deep moan, gazing over at the door three feet away.

Harvey decided to have Ray make another detour by the health clinic for some STI tests. It didn’t take very long at all. They were back at the office in a half hour, Mike still walking a bit funny to hide his persistent arousal.

\-----

From: Harold (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 12:38 PM

_I’m not sure I’m allowed to tell you this, but I think you’ll have a very important role to play at the holiday party. :-)_

\-----

Wendy looked up from the counter as the little bell above the front door announced another customer. She didn’t come across as the standard patron, that was for sure. Four layers of pearls draped around her neck and her pantsuit fit her like a glove. The heels she wore punctuated the ends of each of her long strides.

“Macchiato. Don’t skimp on the foam.”

“Yes, miss. Harvey, you heard her, right?”

“Yes, Wendy, I do have ears y’know,” the shaggy-haired blond replied from further down the counter.

The woman let out a huff and reached down to her purse. Harvey was still learning the ropes of being a barista (after switching from the register) and Wendy knew she’d probably have to stall the customer while he took his time getting it right.

“Tough day already, Ms…?”

“Pearson. Jessica Pearson.”

Harvey let out a whistle.

“You know me?” she asked him while he scuttled about for the ingredients.

“I thought I recognized you. You’re the most kick-ass lawyer at Gordon-Schmidt-Van Dyke. You made junior partner in five years, a record for the company.”

“Are you the stalker I never knew I had, because I can get a restraining order issued in the time it’ll take you to fake your way through my order.”

“Oh, no, Ms. Pearson. Harvey here reads all the legal publications. He wants to go to Harvard, but he needs to get a scholarship.”

“I told you, Wendy. I’m going to work my way there.”

“Sure, kid. Plenty of people think about getting into Harvard Law. Have any backup plans in case your dream doesn’t work out?” Jessica asked with (what Wendy took for) ersatz hostility.

“Nope. I’ve got a one-track mind,” he admitted with his trademark smug grin.

“Ignore him. What’s the problem, Ms. Pearson?”

“My car broke down because the idiot driver they assigned me didn’t bother to take the thing to the mechanics when it was supposed to be serviced. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess I’m not going to be able to get a cab up here.”

Wendy picked up the phone as soon as the complaint had slipped from Jessica’s mouth. She had a favor she hadn’t called in yet and decided to use it for the woman before she mauled Harvey for being his arrogant self.

“Most likely not,” Harvey answered as set down one large pitcher and picked up a jar. “No skimping on the foam. How sweet do you want it?”

“I like things bitter.”

“Ooh, I didn’t have you pinned as a joker,” he replied.

“Only to soften people up before you go for the killing blow. How much do you know about beating allegations of corrupt corporate practices overseas, blondie?”

“FCPA, 1977. Amended in 1998 with the IABA. Most judges are fairly lenient so long as the accusations don’t make headlines in the press. If you can prove a climate of corruption pursuant to _United States v. Hechingersen_ , 1984, you can have the case dismissed, assuming the sum of money and gifts exchanged was less than $100,000.”

“Look at that – the wannabe lawyer knows something. But what about if the amount exceeded that limit?”

Wendy noticed that Harvey was amusing the customer. Hell, most everyone who came to her sister’s café found the mere sight of him to be an interesting oddity. The fact that he could schmooze like a politician when he wasn’t bragging ensured that he became a neighborhood fixture. Often the men playing chess at the north entrance of the Park would comment on him. ‘The blond with the smart mouth and the worn leather jacket, what’s he up to?’ they’d ask her.

Harvey whistled again. “No wonder they brought you on to take the case. I suppose you could go for the duress defense: some maniac general held a gun to our man in Kano and we wired the money because we didn’t want to deal with a wrongful death suit instead.”

Jessica’s lips curled up and she turned to gaze out the windows for a moment.

“Macchiato’s…done, I think,” Harvey said, utterly noncommittal.

“White face in Harlem. Good thinking, Bond” she jabbed, taking her cup. She took a glance down at it and shrugged her shoulders, gulping some of it down.

“ _Live and Let Die_? Not exactly a top-tier pick,” the man replied as he wiped a spill off the counter.

“When the quote is apt, you use it. Besides, Moore was the right man for a difficult period in the life of the franchise.”

“That’s debatable.”

“You do realize who you’re proposing a debate with, right? Oh wait, you’re already a subscribed member of the Jessica Pearson fanclub.”

Wendy shook her head as she passed on the information to the driver on the other end of the line. This woman really was kick-ass. She hung up once he’d agreed to take the fare.

“Ms. Pearson? I grabbed a guy at one of the local private taxi companies. He’s about fifteen blocks away and he’ll take you anywhere so long as you tip well. I hope you can still make it to your appointment.”

“Thank you, Wendy.”

“It’s really no problem. We sometimes have customers stay late and the streets are a little rough around here.”

“You know, I could use a competent personal assistant to go along with my new driver. Have you ever thought about leaving the coffee business?”

“Much as I’d like to, I can’t. My brother has MS and my sister and I need to stay close by to care for him; we don’t have enough money to afford to send him to a treatment program.”

“If you can make schedules and handle correspondence as quickly as you grabbed that taxi, I might be able to find a way to get the firm to pay for that.”

“I really don’t know. I’d have to check to with my sister at least.”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Working for me would be a lot more rewarding then running a till. If you can juggle business and a sick relative you’d be a better secretary than the one I’ve got now.”

“Hey, aren’t you forgetting about someone?” Harvey asked as he rounded the counter. “You know, your potential genius associate?”

“And who might that be? All I see is a terrible barista who should be in law school. I thought you wanted to work your way up the ladder.”

“I don’t look gift horses in the mouth, either. You already know I’m smart enough to keep up with your colleagues.”

“That’s possible. But you’re too damn proud, and I wouldn’t be able to sell the senior partners on paying for some surfer dude to go to Harvard at the same time as I’m fighting them to add anti-discrimination policies to the bylaws.”

“I’ll prove it. Give me a chance and I’ll be the best hire you’ve ever made. By the time you’ve bought into the firm I’ll be out of law school and ready to cement your place at the top.”

“You’re ten kinds of stupid,” she said, taking a moment to think. “Here’s my offer for you: I’ll schedule in time for a proper interview. Assuming you don’t embarrass yourself during it, I’ll see about sticking you in the mailroom and then ‘discover’ you after a few months. That is if you’re still around for that long. And that would be the easiest part.”

“Deal.”

She held out her hand and Harvey shook it.

A horn rang through the air and Jessica quickly plucked a pen from her bag. She had the two employees write their contact information on an order sheet and made a promise to call in twenty-four hours’ time with the news, good or bad.

\-----

Just after one, Donna stopped by Mike’s desk and motioned him to follow her. He made sure to log out before he did, conscious of his colleagues’ continuing pranks.

“The files have arrived. I hope you didn’t have any big plans for tonight,” she informed him as he stood.

“Is it that bad?”

“Worse. Though, I have to say, you look better now than you did when you got here. Any secrets you want to share with me?” she asked as they left the pool.

Mike felt the heat on his face. Donna was the unknown-unknown of Pearson Hardman. Despite their friendship and her close relationship with her boss, he didn’t know exactly how much he was allowed to tell her. Or what she already knew…

“You don’t have to answer, Mike. But whatever it is, you should definitely keep it up – after you finish helping Harvey with his case, of course.”

Along the way they ran into Rachel, who was hefting a bankers box in the direction of said senior partner’s office. With her neck askew and the weight of the files pushing her back she made for a pretty good impression of the Leaning Tower.

“I’m blaming you for this, Mike,” she said as she set it down on top of the mountain of its kind beside Donna’s desk. “They dumped the whole lot outside my office and there’s another five still back there. I’m always the one stuck moving these around, too. Missy Dietler never picks up any of the slack.”

“You realize holding me responsible for this is completely silly, right?”

She shot him a dirty look and he turned to Donna for support.

“Pick your battles, Mike. Now get to work; you and Harvey aren’t going to get through all these unless you get going,” she stated, looking at the heap. “And if these ugly boxes are still disrupting the feng shui of my desk or Harvey’s office on Monday morning you’ll really be on my bad side.”

He sighed and picked up one of the gargantuan containers, walking it into Harvey’s office. He set it down beside the couch and looked up to see the older man smirking at him.

“You really need to start working out your upper body. I could carry two of those when I was an associate.”

“Do you want my help or not, Mr. Specter?” he asked, although he had already removed the lid of the box and was retrieving manila folders.

“Eventually you’ll learn that there are some things you can’t refuse, Mike,” Harvey said as he rose from his desk and made to join him on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had every chapter through ten written out and ready to go, but I looked over them again and realized I had the pacing all wrong. So I put off a very major plot point for another section and I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter now.
> 
> On the other hand, Harold got some screen time. #TeamHarHar #JustKidding
> 
> Oh, and forgive the typos. I don't have a beta/editor so it's on me to catch all the mistakes. Even reading it aloud doesn't shake out all the missing words and superfluous commas/adjectives. At some point in the future I might take a week off to go back and give the first eight to ten chapters a deep cleaning.
> 
> UPDATE: My laptop is in the shop/dead. I still have access to a computer, but the next chapter might be a bit late. :0( Bear with me, folks.
> 
> UPDATE UPDATE: I have a working computer. Unfortunately, it's not the same one. But the important thing is that chapter seven will be posted on Thursday afternoon/evening. Hopefully this machine won't break for the duration of this serial. *fingers crossed*


	7. It was Inevitable, Really

“So what are we searching for exactly?” Mike asked, plopping a stack of five thick folders down onto the couch beside him.

“Anything that could reduce the value of the assets our client is thinking about purchasing from Ritsoff,” Harvey replied as he flipped over another sheet of dense financial statements from the nearby chair.

“Care to narrow that down at all? You must have some kind of hunch about what it might be, right?”

“If I had a clue I wouldn’t need an extra pair of eyes. By the way, when you finish with a box leave it in a separate pile from mine. I still don’t know whether I need to double-check everything you’ve read or not,” Harvey judged, turning another page.

“Hey, you’re talking to Jessica’s associate here.”

“Don’t get cocky kid. And a real lawyer wouldn’t have to resort to name-dropping.”

“Because you’ve never told Harold to drop your name to get something done faster?” An annoyed eyeroll confessed the veracity of the accusation. “Oh, and you telling someone else not to be cocky – did you just feel that vibration? It wasn’t an earthquake; it was the universe laughing, Harvey.”

“Don’t forget your place, Mike. It’s Mr. Specter to you in here,” the older man slipped out in a huff.

“In here? What’s that supposed to mean, Harvey?” Donna inquired from the intercom.

“Donna, don’t you have enough to do without eavesdropping? I could always loan you out to Cooper to help schedule his trip to Osaka.”

“Pfft. That wouldn’t even take fifteen minutes for me.”

“Or develop the itinerary of Louis’ next mudding trip, perhaps?”

“I might actually enjoy that, Harvey. You know, mudding is more common than you might think and just because you don’t partake in it doesn’t mean-”

“You’d have to look at the pictures of him posing in front of the sign in nothing but a bath towel during the archiving process afterwards.”

“Shutting up now, boss,” she hurriedly replied. “Except to tell you that Harold wants to see you later this afternoon to talk about the pro bono. And before you say anything, no, it did not implode spectacularly – yet.”

“Fine,” the partner sighed. “But don’t let him bring any papers in here with him. I don’t want to risk contaminating the two cases and having to spend two hours sorting them apart.”

“You think so little of your associate, Mr. Specter,” Mike assessed, stressing the last bit to show his disdain for protocol.

“On the contrary, Mike. I know him all too well.”

The next hour passed slowly, time punctuated only by the regular flipping of pages, the rarer thunk of folders being withdrawn or replaced, and the drawn-out Styrofoam-esqe squeak of Mike sliding a box across the floor with his foot. The older man shot an especially dark look his way for that.

“Sorry,” Mike offered, wincing under the gaze.

“Never do that again. You have two fully functional arms; pick a box up if you need to move it,” the partner admonished. “You should be apologizing to Donna for that.”

“Your concern is touching, but out of place. Harold’s here,” she announced, turning to look at them through the glass wall. Sure enough, Harvey’s associate was nervously bouncing on his feet beside her desk.

“You can come in when she announces you, rookie,” Harvey shouted through the partition, setting aside a half-scoured folder as he did.

“Right,” the curly-haired blond said as he pushed the door open. His hesitancy was still obvious, though, as the older man had to tell him to stop standing in the doorway and take a seat. “So, I have some good news.”

“I’m not clairvoyant, Harold.”

“Yeah, no, I know that-”

“Clock’s ticking, kid. Should I bill you for your stutters?” Harvey asked with a corners-only smile.

“Okay. So I contacted two more employees and got them to agree to join the suit if it goes to trial. If we have them all testify-”

“Then it won’t be hearsay and our client’s claims will be harder to refute. Yes, I went to law school, too. Is there any reason in particular you needed to see me?”

“I figured we could make a preliminary offer to the owner of the salon next week. It’s just that…well, I don’t know how to reserve any of the conference rooms.”

Mike barely concealed his laughter as the older man swung his head back upwards to the ceiling.

“Donna?” Harvey requested.

“Already on it, boss. I’ll set it up for next week, Tuesday afternoon.”

“Also, I figured you’d want to give me the list of our goals for the negotiation,” Harold added hopefully.

“What does the client want?” the partner prompted his associate expectantly, not bothering to drop his head to resume eye contact.

“Fifteen dollars an hour, protection from firing, and paid daycare for herself and her fellow employees.”

Harvey remained still as he contemplated the terms. “Ask for twenty-five and see if you can’t get them to go for twenty. You should also get them the right to join the city-wide hairdresser union. If you dug up enough evidence of abuse that shouldn’t be too tough.”

“Right. Are you going to sit in with me?”

“It’s still a little early to take off the training wheels. I’ll drop in after you’ve done the heavy lifting and make sure everything works out.”

“Thank you, Mr. Specter. Do you want me to help you and Mike with this?” Harold said, pointing at the mountain of still-unopened boxes.

“No, Harold. Finish up discovery and your other preparations and head out at five,” the partner answered.

Harold turned and started to open the door before his boss dropped the last bit in a hushed tone.

“Oh, and good work, rookie.”

The curly-haired man couldn’t hold back a smile as he headed back to the bullpen. Mike’s own face twisted into an enormous smirk.

“You care about him.”

“What?” Harvey asked, the folder back in his lap and a ream of papers between in his hands.

“You totally care about Harold.”

“And here I thought you were supposed to be a lawyer. With false observations like that it’s a miracle Jessica ever hired you.”

Mike bristled at the accusation but decided to press further. “You can’t deny it so you’re deflecting, Mr. Specter. I bet you want him to end up acting just like you, too. Did you tell him to take over the case in the hope that the client would tell him he’d look better with straightened, gelled-back hair?”

Donna snorted at the suggestion, causing the partner to scowl further.

“I told him to take the case because it’s a pro bono and therefore beneath me,” Harvey explained, wagging a finger. “Besides that, you should cram it and get back to work. I’m going home at a reasonable hour whether or not we manage to find the white elephant in these reports.”

“I’m totally going to put that up on the firm’s anonymous parody twitter account: ‘Pro bonos are beneath THE Harvey Specter.”

“We have one of those?”

“No! Definitely not,” Donna cried through the intercom.

\-----

“How the hell did Ross score the gig with Specter?”

“He is Jessica’s associate. If Harvey was going to replace Gunderson with anyone, he’d be the most logical candidate,” Devon answered, his hangover having abated only a half hour earlier.

“Still, I’ve been here longer than him. Doesn’t seniority count for anything around here?” Kyle continued, pulling the other man back so he could take another peek from around the corner.

“Uhm, hello, my name is Devon and I’ve been here for two years. I believe I welcomed you here after Rachel kneed you in the crotch for making a pass at her during your orientation.”

“That’s different. I’ve been killing things for the past month and we both know that Kleinerman has been eyeing you as his right-hand man.”

“Like hell that’s going to happen. The only way I end up in Wills & Trusts is if I blow my brains out and they have to deal with the resulting intestacy. Still, I figured Harvey would go with one of the female associates as a rebound. It’s not like he really needs a number two, right?”

“Of course he does. And c’mon – ‘Specter & Durant’ would be the most kickass law firm name this city has even known.”

Devon pulled Kyle back this time and looked at him like he’d grown four heads. Some people just refused to acknowledge his brilliance, despite the overwhelming evidence of it. If Jessica hadn’t gone and hired Mike, he’d be the golden boy of the office right about now.

“No you c’mon, Kyle. Do you honestly think that he’d dump Jessica to form his own firm and then bring you on as a co-founding partner? I thought you stopped with the coke once Louis hired you.”

“Shut up. That only happened once…twice at Harvard. I need to figure out how I can get him to give me a chance so I can prove how amazing I am. Maybe I can snatch a case file from Harold’s desk while he’s out and kill it on my own? He’d totally have to bring me on – hell, he might even give me my own office.”

“I’m just going to tell you right now that that’s a terrible idea – unless you’re trying to get fired.”

“Who’s trying to get fired?” Louis asked from behind the two men. They both jumped simultaneously.

“N-no one, boss.”

“You could have fooled me, what with the whole not being at your desks when I stopped by to drop off more work. Should I start searching for your replacements?”

“No. Please, no,” Devon answered.

“When I was a rookie associate and Hardman couldn’t find someone within a minute of strolling into the pool, not only would he fire him, but he’d see to it that none of the other big firms would bother picking them up. Do you want to end up back on Staten Island, Devon?”

“No, sir. Look, I was just trying to get Kyle back to his post.”

Kyle glared at the other associate. It was just like him to dump the blame on his colleague. Well, that was the M.O. of all the associates with the exception of Harold and Mike – wait, was that why Harvey had taken the two men along?

No fucking way.

“I was just doing a little reconnaissance for you, Louis. I figured you’d want to know why Harvey has snatched up another associate when we’re all in your purview.”

The junior partner flashed an enormous toothy grin. He knew it all too well; by now it even haunted his dreams. “Maybe you’re not a complete screw-up, Durant. But just tell me one thing: who’s the man?” Louis asked, ignoring the dumbfound look on Devon’s face.

“You are, Louis,” the second-year replied.

“ _Durant_ , who’s the man?” the partner repeated.

“…You are, Louis,” Kyle let out, grinding his teeth afterward.

“Damn right. Now get back to your desks. You should both be happy to know that you’ll be working all Saturday and Sunday on the briefs I just gave you. Anything you’d like to say to me?”

“Thank you for believing in us enough to pile it on,” the two younger men said in disgusted, oft-repeated unison. Kyle made sure to throw up his middle finger when the partner turned his back to them.

\-----

Jessica smiled at the looks of horror her employees flashed as she breezed down the hallway. She knew she didn’t actually have a chilling aura, but she still liked to think that her presence was enough to drop the temperature by ten degrees (Celsius). At her level, life would have been a bore without it.

There were a few people exempt from her power, though. Norma, for one, was utterly unflappable. At times it was difficult to tell if the woman was even awake, such was her flippant disregard for the wild demands of Louis. Jessica made sure the assistant received an ugly new dress every Hanukkah to help with the torment. It was worth every penny.

Missy Dietler also managed to escape the chill embrace of Jessica’s presence. In the paralegal’s case, though, the cause was her incompetence. The managing partner had noticed it on the woman’s first day, but she’d decided to keep her around as a test for her colleagues. Three years on and still not one of them had bothered to pipe up about the useless blonde to one of the partners.

Well, you couldn’t expect a Harvey Specter in every corner of the office.

Jessica woke from her thoughts as she neared the desk of said man’s assistant. Donna gave her a quick smile and nodded in the direction of his office. The managing partner turned to see Mike and Harvey sitting amongst a pile of folders, a highlighter secured between the former’s teeth.

“I think you need to work on your subtlety,” the assistant said after she’d switched off the intercom. “This isn’t exactly the most graceful maneuver you’ve pulled to get something to come together.”

“Are you saying that I should worry about those two idiots figuring out what’s really going on?”

“No, but all the other little forest critters are going to get suspicious if you do this again. I spied heads popping out from the associates’ pool earlier and it’s only a matter of time before Louis interrogates them for what they know.”

“Point taken. It’s a Friday, though, so all of this should have blown over by next week. There hasn’t been any trouble, I presume?”

“Nope. A little quiet, though. I was expecting Harvey to put on one of his records, but I guess he must really be struggling with the grunt work. It’s been quite a long time since he’s got into the nitty-gritty of a case like this.”

“He is up against Dana Scott. And as for Mike?”

“The human supercomputer, you mean? Yeah, judging from the separate ‘finished’ piles, I’d say he’s beating the old man three to one.”

Jessica smiled broadly, shocking the woman seated before her. “Excellent. Announce me?” The stunned expression lasted while the woman fumbled about with her hands.

“Harvey, Jessica’s here,” Donna said after turning the intercom back on. The two women watched as the man looked up and nodded.

“I just came to make sure my puppy wasn’t being abused. Do I need to check for bruises, Mike?” Jessica asked as she stepped into the office.

“Uh, no that-” the associate mumbled as he fumbled to find the cap for the highlighter.

“He’s fine, Jessica. Only Louis has to resort to physical assaults. You were the one who taught me how to cause massive emotional scarring instead, remember?”

“I’m sitting right here,” Mike declared, raising an arm and pointing at himself. “Could you two at least wait until I’m out of earshot before you describe the ways you’re trying to torture me?”

“It’s no fun unless you know what’s coming and we make you suffer in anticipation. Speaking of anticipation, get ready because as soon as you’re done assisting Harvey on this, I have three cases that need briefing and another two for which you’ll be researching precedents.”

Mike let loose an enormous groan, taking the opportunity to shake out his neck and crack his back.

“Welterweight,” Harvey observed, shaking his head.

“No, I believe the real welterweight is your associate, Harvey. I think I saw Harold heading out while I made my way over here. You haven’t fired him so you could make a move on mine, have you?”

“That’s ridiculous, Jessica,” the senior partner fired back, the note of concern in his voice stronger than the man probably would have liked. “I allowed Harold to go home on time because he upheld his end of the bargain and set up the pro bono for a slam dunk.”

“I’ll believe you when the settlement makes it to the next partners’ meeting. I’m headed home for the week; have fun with all of this,” Jessica declared as she stepped back around a small fort of boxes. “That’s code for ‘get back to work’, in case you couldn’t figure it out on your own.”

She fully enjoyed the way both men narrowed their eyes at her in unison despite her attempts to mask it. When Keith asked her if she’d signed Sasha and Malia as clients she had to struggle for a retort.

\-----

“Admit it. Tell me the truth, Mike.”

“No way.”

“You know I’m right about this.”

“Shut up. No you aren’t.”

“Oh yes I am, Mike. These are the best-damned burgers in the city. Right now all you can think about is the time you wasted on other places when you could have been eating more of these.”

The two of them were both sitting cross-legged on opposite ends of the coffee table. Mike had vacuumed up his first mini-burger and was nearly finished with the second one. They were pretty good, even if Harvey had stopped him from ordering a beer to wash it down and instead gotten them coffee.

The combination was unnatural.

“Fine, you win. Now stop stealing my fries or I won’t be properly incentivized to keep plowing through these documents.” The word choice stalled the older man long enough for Mike to gather up said foodstuffs and slide them away from Harvey.

“I paid for them. By the way, you’ve got ketchup on your lips,” Harvey smirked. “I have a rule about spilling condiments, Mike. If you let anything reach my couch or the carpet, you’re fired, regardless of Jessica’s protestations.”

“Sure, whatever. Take a good look, then,” Mike ordered, licking around his mouth slowly before wiping himself with a napkin. He didn’t miss the way the older man stared at that. “All better?”

“At least you used a napkin afterwards. Didn’t anybody ever teach you manners?”

“Many have tried, Mr. Specter. Am I allowed to pick out the next record?”

“Not when you’re still greasy from the food.”

“And the basketballs?”

“Lay one finger on them before cleaning your hands and I’ll kill you and hide the body better than Scottie hid the catch to this divestiture deal.”

“Gee, Mr. Specter. Here I was thinking I only had to be on my best behavior until Donna went home. Speaking of which, didn’t you say you were going to head back to your condo in the sky at a reasonable hour?”

“You think I’m going to leave you alone in here? Besides, time is of the essence for our client. I can’t justify my hourly rate if I’m just going to thumb this off on some associate for the weekend.”

“That’s a surprisingly mature attitude coming out of you.”

“You’d be surprised at the things that come out of me when no one else is around, Mike,” Harvey grinned. “But I digress. Did you find anything suspicious in any of the boxes you went through?”

“No, everything seemed in order. It’s just-”

“Just what, Mike?”

“I know I haven’t been here all that long. Still, there’s always a few skeletons lurking around in poorly concealed spots when it comes to big companies like this. But Ritsoff is eerily clean. There’s no junior in-house accountant trying to simmer the books to look better, or a factory manager stretching the limits of decency to raise productivity, or even an executive pilfering a few thousand clams here or there. It makes me think-”

“It makes you think that I was right to worry? I haven’t found anything in my stack, either. The more we dig the more I think we should warn our client to steer clear of this whole thing, but without any proof to back up that instinct he wouldn’t listen. Not even to me.”

Mike rolled his eyes as slowly as he could. “I bet you go out of your way to aggrandize yourself even while you’re writing a check to the orphanage in front of a group of nuns.”

“Don’t you dare say that, Mike.”

“What, you have a soft spot for nuns?”

“I would never, ever write my own check. What kind of smug, rich asshole would I be without a man to do that for me?” Harvey asked, curling the ends of his lips upward.

“So we’re really going to peruse all of the rest of this crap?” Mike asked, scanning over the remaining pile and calculating the number of Red Bulls he’d need to power through the feat on top of the coffee he’d already downed. He eased himself up and then down onto the spot he’d occupied in the couch for eight-and-a-half hours.

“Yup,” Harvey said as he plopped down on the couch beside him. “I didn’t splurge for dinner just because I’m a nice guy. Though I might have a few more incentives for productivity’s sake.”

Mike shot the man a wary glance but reached for the next folder on the disassembly line and his highlighter. Asking direct questions would never get him a straight answer, anyway. He’d lapsed back into the zone and was making good progress when he felt a sudden sensation on his right calf. He looked over to see the older man rubbing his foot across the muscle through his trousers.

“Mr. Specter, what are you-”

“Keep working, Mike,” he replied with a grin. “Don’t stop.”

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say?”

“Don’t ruin the moment.”

How the hell was he supposed to do that? Now the only thing he could concentrate on was how oddly sensitive he was in that part of his lower leg. He didn’t dare absently flip pages on the off chance the one before him held the key to Scottie’s ploy, but surely Harvey would become irritated at his hesitation.

“H-Harvey…I can’t think at all.”

“Now you know how I feel, Mike,” the partner whispered into his ear. “Loosen your tie for me.”

“Huh?”

“Do it.”

Mike complied with the request, feeling the older man’s hands undo the top two buttons of his shirt as he did. Without stopping the up-and-down pattern on his calf, Harvey leaned in and bit sharply on Mike’s exposed collarbone. More bites alternated with fervent tongue-lapping across his clavicle and up his neck.

“Unngawd. We…shouldn’t…do this…in the office.”

“You’re not doing anything. I’m just incentivizing my temporary associate,” the older man smirked as he pulled back. “I think I just earned twenty minutes of speed reading from you.”

“Control freak,” Mike jabbed, thrusting his tongue out as he reached for his highlighter.

“Complaining will only prolong the downtime until your next incentive, Mike.”

Just like that, the foot rub stopped as well. Harvey went right back to his own folder as though nothing had happened. Mike felt cold with the air in contact with his now tender skin. He had to work twice as hard to get any more reading done and have any of it stick.

The torture continued on like that for the rest of the evening. Long periods of exhaustive reading were partitioned with brief moments of intense physical contact. Harvey’s (probably absurdly expensive) dress sock-clad foot teased his leg while the man’s mouth toyed with his sensitive neck. Mike lost awareness of his location, caught up in the sensations and the anticipation for more when they stopped.

“I think I finally caught up with you,” Harvey figured out loud as he slid the last folder back into another box some time later. “It’s midnight. We should consider heading home – neither one of us will be able to catch anything if we’re too tired.”

“But you said that we needed to hurry.”

“And then I went and let you distract me into what I’ve been doing for the past three hours.” Damn, had it really been that long?

“I didn’t do anything. That was all you,” Mike accused with a pout.

“Mike, stop trying to act all innocent. We both know that you don’t have to do a whole lot to do a whole lot,” the man said with a look of amusement. “Moreover, we’re no closer to finding the catch. There don’t seem to be any personnel issues-”

“Nope. None that I’ve encountered.”

“And the government isn’t trying to take the factories through eminent domain.”

“No red tape tie-ups, either.”

“So we’re out of luck. It feels like whatever it is staring us right in the face.”

“If it was, we wouldn’t be the last ones to go home. Ugh, what a mess,” Mike said as he looked over the food wrappers and the stacks and stacks of boxes still awaiting review.

“Wait, did the financial analysts find the pollution citations?” Harvey asked, turning to him while rubbing his forehead.

“Uhh,” Mike said, closing his eyes and flipping through the pages in his mind. “Yes, they did. The core of it comprises pages thirteen thru forty-seven of folder five of that box there.”

“You’re incredible, Mike,” Harvey said, staring at him.

“It’s nothing, Harvey. Do you think we’ll be able to find whatever it is in time if we call it quits for tonight?”

“We have to – I know Scottie will give us the weekend but then she’ll move on to a different company and probably manage to dupe them.”

“Maybe she’s just trying to toss a load of bricks on us out of spite.”

“No, I don’t think so. Darby wouldn’t pay her hourly rate for something so petty.”

Something flashed across Mike’s mind at that comment. “Hmmm. Petty?”

“Should I be using a fancier word? Wait, Mike, did you figure something out?”

“Maybe. Didn’t they just pass some new regulations in the EU that they’d proposed months ago? It was something about size restrictions, right?”

“Possibly. Let me go check,” Harvey said, stumbling slightly. “Ugh, my other foot’s asleep.”

“It’s an occupational hazard,” Mike grinned. “Though, that’s probably punishment for distracting me with those ‘incentives’.” Harvey narrowed his eyes but carefully made his way past the ‘read’ piles to his desk.

There was a clattering of keys as Mike marked a stopping point on the page in front of him and carefully filed it back amongst its peers. Half of being a lawyer was learning to stomach blatant waste of paper, it seemed.

“You were right, Mike. Europe’s the biggest customer for the products that are produced there, too. Christ, all of the assembly lines will have to be adjusted. Not to mention the materials – they’ll have to renegotiate with each of their suppliers.”

“Wait, so Scottie threw all of this stuff our way to keep us from figuring that out?”

“It’s a classic ploy, believe it or not – get someone so busy looking inside a house that they forget to check out the neighborhood,” he said turning his head to look across the room. “I just expected more from her. But that’s the trouble with someone like Scottie. You never know exactly how she’s going to pull one over on you.”

“So this means we can offer them less?”

“Not just less; we can grab it all for a steal. Hell, our client would be better off paying just to get the managers and executives and moving them over to a different part of the existing business,” Harvey replied, reaching for his phone.

“Uh, Mr. Specter, it’s midnight and their office is on the other side of Midtown. Don’t you think that call can wait?”

“Industry doesn’t wait, Mr. Ross,” he fired back with an incredulous look. So lawyers weren’t the only masochists, Mike learned.

“Hello, Clint, yes it’s Harvey…yes, I have some new advice for that acquisition you were considering. My associate and I realized-”

Mike rounded up the last of the fries and popped them down the hatch. Hey, he’d earned them. Tossing the wrappers in the bin, he started straightening up the two piles, being careful not to contaminate them – they might not be done with the search, awful as the idea was.

He picked up Harvey’s shoe and walked it over to the partner while he was at it. Struck with a desire for revenge, he poked the tip of into Harvey’s crotch while the man was still on the phone and began nudging it back and forth. Harvey’s eyes shot up to him, but he made no move to stop Mike, so the teasing continued.

“Alright, Clint. I’ll give you until tomorrow afternoon to finish up what we described. In this case I think you can forgo going through the formal channels and just get the approval of the key members of the board…Sounds good; you try to get some rest, as well.”

“You naughty rookie, where did you learn something like that?” Harvey asked, snatching the shoe from Mike’s hands and dropping it to the floor. While he popped it back on Mike went to retrieve his messenger bag.

“I only learn from the best, Mr. Specter.”

“That’s still a mystery to me.”

“What is – who the best is? I hope you’re not doubting your talents just because I caught the trap and you didn’t.”

“Brat. Just for that, I’m going to have you sit in on the meeting with Scottie tomorrow.”

“I thought we could just go around her back. Why are we going to meet with her? And are we even allowed to have meetings on Saturday?”

“I don’t know how to reserve the conference rooms, either. But they’re always open on the weekends. And as to why – I want to slap her in the face with her own lousy attempt at pulling the wool over our eyes. Tomorrow. For now, let’s head home and get some rest.”

“But I thought-” Mike whined. “I mean, all the incentives you gave me.”

“Patience, Mike. You’ll get your reward, but only when you’re well-rested and don’t smell like you’ve been working sixteen hours straight.”

Harvey ended that imperative with a long, sloppy kiss that involved Mike shoved up against the wall. Frustratingly, it concluded all too soon and the older man left him behind, quivering against the glass.

The bastard didn’t even hold the elevator for him.

\-----

From: Inés (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 12:15 AM

_It happened just like you said it would, Ms. Donna._

From: Inés (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 12:16 AM

_Like some ravenous animal, that Mr. Specter was._

\-----

“What the hell was the point of calling me in on a Saturday, Harvey? Are you that desperate to see me again?” Scottie asked as she strutted over from the elevator bank just before noon. She was doing the purse straps and jacket slung over forearms routine so that her chest was on full display.

“You’ll find out when we start the second round of negotiations,” he replied.

“Wonder Boy still isn’t here, is he?” she smirked, walking past him toward the enormous table behind him.

Another ding sounded through the mostly empty office and Jessica’s associate burst forth from the lift. Thankfully, he’d finished dressing and his hair wasn’t too much of a disaster.

“Harvey-”

“Late. You let opposing council beat you here. Sometimes I really do wonder if you’re a lawyer. C’mon.” He rolled his eyes as they made their way into the conference room, Mike’s noisy panting abating slightly.

“So, have you caved? I’m willing to consider two-forty, as a professional courtesy,” Scottie offered, still wearing her smirk.

“You know, we had a fun time going through all those documents last night, Scottie. Especially when we came across that workers’ comp class action lawsuit against the plant manager in Shenzhen. You really tucked that one away amongst all the other forms.”

“There’s no such lawsuit against our client. And there’s no way you got through all those documents in just one night. If you want to haggle down the price, at least don’t be so obvious with your bluffs.”

“What bluffs? You mean you didn’t read through all the forms like we did? You surely would have found it there if you had. Right, Mike?”

“Right, Mr. Specter.”

“ _Bull-shit_ , Harvey. Honestly, I really thought you had me come down here for a good reason. I can see now that I was mistaken.”

“Well, you’re not mistaken in thinking that your client’s asset is an enormous, steaming pile of crap that needs to be unloaded as soon as possible. Because there most certainly is a problem with it.”

“Oh yeah? Name it, Harvey. You’re not going to wheedle information out of me like you did with our Con Law professor during second year,” Scottie warned, folding her arms.

“Let’s see, then. Since I’m just guessing blindly, I’d have to say that the issue is…oh, I don’t know. They found lead in it.”

“Way off, Harvey. I didn’t know you’d fallen this far already. Maybe if you’d come with me to work for Darby you’d still have a clue what you’re doing.”

“Oh, well then I guess it’s the new regulations they passed in the Common Market.” Harvey took a moment to bask in the look of horror on Scottie’s face. “Yeah, I figured it out.”

“Look, we can still discuss a deal. I’m willing to consider one hundred and eighty,” she quickly offered, reaching for her pen.

“No, I think we just moved down into the eight figures. How’s seventy?”

“Harvey, I need you to be fair with me. You can’t lowball me that much! If I go back to Darby with something like that he’ll take back his offer of making me a name partner.”

“Well, perhaps we can make a deal. There’s still the issue of the employee contracts, for instance. Maybe if you were willing to do some lifting on your end, I could bring the offer back up,” Harvey hinted, ignoring the confusion written on the face of the man sitting beside him.

“Now we’re back in business,” Scottie said, regaining her composure. “We could set about locking those in for your client. But you’d have to give us some time to go about that – one week, two at the most.”

“We have some greater concerns about the executives. It seems a number of them have been abandoning ship.”

“What are you talking abo- What did you do, Harvey?”

“Me? I’m not in charge of hiring at my client’s company. But someone seemed to have the bright idea of luring your client’s best execs over while they were hanging in the wind. It was actually kind of brilliant.”

“Harvey, please tell me that this is all a joke.”

“I’d love to, but it’s completely genuine. You see, we figured out your little game and I decided to play one on you. So while you were busy playing phone tag to figure out what number you could throw to us, you missed the fact that we took all your best cards right out from under you.”

Scottie reached for her phone and began texting furiously. “…Ninety. I can sell it to your client for ninety,” she mumbled, attention scattered in at least ten directions.

“Scottie, you’ll be lucky to find someone to take those factories gratis now. But since I decided to be fair, I went ahead and found a contractor who’ll disassemble them for scrap. He’s willing to give you fifteen million for the lot of it and I’d strongly advise your client to consider the offer.”

“Harvey, this isn’t over. I’m not going back to London without new billings to cover this loss, which means I’m staying in New York. And believe me, I’ll make you suffer,” she warned as she rose.

“I think you can see yourself out, Scottie. Don’t let the elevator ride down remind you too much of your career,” Harvey blasted as she exited the room.

“That was seriously awesome,” Mike said when she’d left their sight. He turned and pushed a fist forward between them. “Alright, Harvey, bump me.”

He rolled his eyes but knocked his fist against Mike’s. “I’m glad you got a chance to witness my brilliance, kid. Don’t you wish you were my associate right about now?”

“Hah. Jessica could take you any day of the week.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t buy you burgers,” Harvey said, leaning in and dropping his voice, “and she won’t screw you senseless this afternoon. You did say you wanted me to bump you, right?”

“Uhhh,” Mike stalled. There was visible movement in the crotch of his trousers.

“I have to grab something before we go. C’mon kid,” he urged as they began the walk towards the corner office. “Maybe I shouldn’t call you ‘kid’ anymore, though.”

“What would replace it with?”

“You’re still a rookie, so that applies. But you were such a good boy last night. Do you like that Mike? ‘Good boy’?” Mike reshuffled himself as he walked and Harvey guessed he’d nailed the delivery.

“Let’s just hurry up and get back to your place, okay?”

“Hmm? Can’t the little lawyer put up with some praise? You’re nothing at all like Scottie, Mike. I bet you couldn’t even tell a lie if you wanted.”

\-----

“Harvey?”

“Gimme a second, Mike. I need to leave a note for the mailroom guy to have all these boxes moved to the file room before Monday.”

“Harvey, there’s something I need to tell you,” Mike said. Harvey wasn’t looking at him, but he’d have noticed the beads of sweat on his brow and the anxiety scrawled across his face if he was.

Mike breath hitched. He couldn’t pretend with Harvey any longer. Maybe it was the fatigue from the night before or seeing how much of an impact Scottie’s actions still had over the man, but the guilt was unbearable. He had to confess his secret.

Even in the moment, though, he knew exactly how much of a terrible idea that was. There was no telling what Harvey might do. He could be walking himself into disbarment or even imprisonment. And there was no telling that it would end with him – Grammy would be out on the street if Harvey used Mike’s deception against Jessica. And she might end up serving time right alongside him.

But he was screwed either way. If he didn’t tell Harvey now, the man would inevitably piece it together down the road. Mike didn’t want to think of how much worse the man’s rage would be if he tried to keep up the ruse longer than he had already. With how good the older man was in bed, he might let it slip in a burst of ecstasy.

“What is it, Mike? You’re a total top and you aren’t going to reconsider? Because trust me, I’ve been with plenty of guys like that; they might start out the night as a top, but they end up versatile,” Harvey joked as he rose from scribbling on the post-it.

“No, Harvey, it’s serious. I…I can’t let anything between us go further until you know something about me. I don’t want to hurt you the way Scottie did.”

“You’re not married are you? Or involved with someone else?” Harvey asked, aware now of the tone in Mike’s voice. The partner leaned back and sat on the edge of his desk, watching him closely.

“No, nothing like that. You’ll probably think it’s worse than that, to be honest.”

“What is it, Mike? Just tell me.”

“You said that you didn’t think I could tell a lie. And you’ve been wondering why I’m not like all the other associates, right?”

“I’ve made peace with your freak brain, Mike,” Harvey said, lapsing into a smile. “Unless you’re going to tell me that you’re an East German test-tube baby turned sleeper cell agent? Should I be calling the police, Mr. Zorin?”

“…I’m not a lawyer, Harvey.”

“What? What do you mean, Mike? I’d say from your performance over the past twenty-four hours that you’re a decent rookie. It might take a while before you can keep up with Phoenix Wright, though,” Harvey joked.

“No, Harvey. I’m not a lawyer. I didn’t go to Harvard. Hell, I didn’t go to any law school. I don’t even have a bachelor’s degree; I got booted from my undergrad for selling test answers.”

“…What?” Harvey asked, probably searching for the tell that this was all a joke. There wasn’t one, and Mike figured the man had already learned all of them. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“That’s…that- Does Jessica know?”

“Yes. The interview I had with her – I was hiding from some undercover cops after a drug deal gone bad. Well, it didn’t go down at all. It all happened so fast. She asked me about stock option backdating, and the next thing I knew I was here. The first day you saw me was the day she pulled me into a life where I don’t belong.”

“Mike, this isn’t funny. Are really being serious with me?” Harvey asked again, clearly still struggling to fathom what Mike was saying.

“Yes.”

A painfully long moment elapsed, the only sound coming from the Xerox machine in the workroom on the other side of the building. Mike dropped his gaze to the floor with the hope that when he raised his head again Harvey might be ready to accept him.

“Mike, I think you should go,” he said, standing and walking over to the window.

“Harvey, I-”

“No, Mike. Go. I can’t look at you right now.”

“Just let me tell you one more thing and then I will. Harvey, I-”

“Mike, when I say ‘go’, I mean ‘go’.”

“Harvey, please, I haven’t even told Grammy about this! Jessica told me not to tell anyone, and I’ve already broken my word with her. But you’re the only one I’ve told. I needed to tell you; I couldn’t be with you without saying anything. I don’t care if you this means that we’re over – I just can’t lie to you,” Mike said, before he turned for the door and exited the office.

\-----

Harvey was still sitting at his desk a half hour later, passing the baseball signed by Jeter absently from one hand to another. He’d put one of his father’s jazz records on the player earlier and Gordon Specter’s solo would begin any moment now.

He leaned back and basked in the misery of it all, letting the ball slip out from his grip and down onto the glass in front of him. He wondered why the same sorts of people kept stumbling into his life and why he couldn’t ever stop them from blowing up any semblance of stability he’d constructed.

When his father’s section ended, he reached for the phone. He wasn’t about to let a perfectly good Saturday night go to waste just because of that fraud. The kid hadn’t even been in Harvey’s private life for two whole days, and he was sure he could excise him from it without leaving any scars. He just needed a good distraction.

“Lucinda? Yes, this is Harvey. I know I had to cancel on you last weekend but I was wondering if you might like to go out to dinner with me tonight…Yes, I should have no trouble getting us a table at Le Bernadin. Alright, I’ll see you there at eight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm sorry about the wait for this chapter. Like I said in my other note, I'm really hoping that no more technical issues come up that prevent me from sticking to the schedule.
> 
> On the other hand, I'm really glad that I decided to split what was originally one chapter into two. It gave me time to develop their relationship before I dynamited it (for the time being). And yeah, writing scenes with the two of them is pretty fun.
> 
> Anyway, you can look forward to the next installment on Tuesday. Please feel free to comment and throw any constructive criticism my way.


	8. Mock Trial

Mike was lucky to get home safe after his confession to Harvey. He’d cycled through the dense mid-day traffic, cursing himself for thinking the partner would have been anything other than outraged. As nervous as he was about his future, though, he was relieved to no longer be living a lie with the older man.

Which was crazy, because he’d known him intimately for roughly a couple days before he’d spilled everything. He’d put his new life and so many people in jeopardy, especially his managing partner. She’d warned him against exactly what he’d done, and Mike figured he had the inside scoop on how Adam and Eve had felt after eating the forbidden fruit. But they’d only been forced to deal with God’s wrath. He’d have to face up to Jessica.

The worst part had been stewing in his apartment over the weekend. He’d stopped by the neighborhood bookstore in a rare moment of clarity, picking up the ten thickest tomes he could find, regardless of subject matter. The new cashier made a pass at him but he was so busy finding ways to shut up the thoughts in his head that he blew the woman off completely.

Blessedly he had a standing appointment accompanying Grammy to church and then to an early (for New York) brunch on Sunday mornings. He’d tried to hide his anxiety and she’d taken the hint to leave it be for the moment, instead opting to gossip about the new choir members and the drama between the parochial vicar and the new program director for special celebrations. After his third bloody mary she asked him to take her back to the care facility and he walked (she wouldn’t let him cycle tipsy) back home himself. He’d finished two of the novels by the time he’d fallen asleep late that night.

Mike woke up shaking and ready to vomit on Monday.

He forced a cold shower on his quaking body and headed in early to face up to his executioner. He was surprised to find the office about as empty as it had been when he’d left Saturday. Thankfully, Jessica was sitting on the couch in her office and Wendy hadn’t come in yet – he didn’t want an audience for this.

“Jessica, I need to tell you something-”

“Mike, take a seat,” she said, motioning to one of the chairs across from her. “My news trumps yours.”

“I’m not sure about that.”

“We’ll see. It’s come to my attention that I’ve neglected to assist you until now with preparation for the annual Pearson Hardman mock trial competition. By the way, I trust you got all the emails announcing it.”

“What? Look, Jessica, my news really matters. I need to-”

“Don’t interrupt the boss,” she stopped him, shaking her head. “The mock trial helps to inform the partners of your abilities. It establishes your place among the other associates and will reflect well on me. You are not allowed to lose, Mike,” she declared as she pointed her finger at his chest.

“Jessica, something happened-”

“Now I know I gave you some books on trial procedure. Since we have some extra time this morning I thought I’d test your courtroom manners.”

“Jessica, I told Harvey,” he loosed, withdrawing in anticipation once the admission was out.

Jessica halted her end of the conversation, remaining perfectly still. She didn’t even blink.

“Oh.”

“Wait, that’s all you’ve got to say?”

“No, that was ‘oh’ as in ‘Oh, I need to beat my goddamn associate’s ass’. What were you thinking, Mike?! And why in God’s name did you tell Harvey of all people?” she demanded, starting to pace in front of him.

Mike crumpled in on himself, deciding whether or not to inform Jessica of their tryst. He ultimately opted for the latter option. “He put me in a situation where I couldn’t lie.”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” she asked as she stood and walked toward the window.

“I was exhausted and still on the high of helping him to beat Scottie. We’d spent the night before searching those piles of boxes and all I could think about was how dirty his praise felt afterwards. No, scratch that: I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Scratch that, too. You didn’t have a fucking clue what you were _doing_ …But that's how Harvey works – stumbling to revelations on dumb luck. Mike, let’s be clear,” she warned as she turned to face him, “I’m mad as hell. If I were ten years younger I’d be hauling you to the wood chipper myself. And you are in for a world of hurt once we’ve cleaned up this steaming pile of shit you’ve left at my feet. But for right now, I’m going to use it to teach you some lessons.”

“Like what?” Mike asked, still preparing to bolt in case she chucked a heel at his head like a throwing star.

“First, tell me everything. You should have called me as soon as it happened.”

“I’ve never called you before.”

“And that needs to change. I know you remember me telling you on your first day that I prefer forthrightness to pride,” she lectured, calming down minutely. “Second lesson: don’t waste time fretting and beating yourself up. Use it to plan for the next encounter. What do we know about Harvey?”

“He’s cocky and wily, but he listens to you and he cares more about the firm than he lets on,” he thought aloud. “Oh, and he’s a bit of a gambler.”

Jessica nodded, looking pleased. “Yes, which means I can take care of this. We should assume that he has or will inform Donna, but Harvey won’t let this escape beyond her.”

“How are you going to get him to back off?”

“That’s for me to know and you to know better than to ask. Third lesson: mistakes are the springboard to success. What is it about him specifically that caused you to falter?”

Mike thought for a moment, trying to come up with a response other than ‘he deepthroated me in his glass elevator and then fed me Korean barbecue’.

“His demeanor. He’s not like the other employees here. With them it’s easy because I know they’ve done worse, but with him I feel like I’m under a spotlight.”

“If you can’t hold up under that kind of pressure, you’ll never be able to prep witnesses for the same treatment on the stand,” she said, resuming her seat and checking her watch. “We’ve still got twenty minutes. Now, when the bailiff announces the judge and she calls the court to order, what should you be doing?”

They rehearsed for the mock trial, going over basic procedure and standard objections that might be presented by the opposition. Mike knew she was just trying to ease his nerves, but it worked regardless. When she dismissed him she promised to dump a month’s worth of asshole clients’ briefs on him as his punishment, assuming she could rein in Harvey.

\-----

Jessica watched as Mike went back to his desk. She perused the results of the background investigation she’d ordered conducted on a potential client as she waited for the other shoe to drop. Any minute now the other party should be storming into her office – Harvey was so predictable at times like this.

Her door swung open and the man in question marched straight to her desk, the intensity he exuded usually reserved for cheating spouses. “Jessica, we need to talk.”

“Oh? About what?”

“How about the fact that you hired a charlatan?”

“‘Charlatan’? What a silly word you’re using today, Harvey. Are you also going to call this alleged fraud a flimflammer or a bounder? Maybe mountebank, while we’re digging through the obscure?” she asked, pointedly refusing to meet his gaze.

“Jessica, don’t play games with me. Mike Ross isn’t a lawyer and you need to terminate his employment before he brings down the whole firm.”

“First of all, yes, he is. He’s accomplished more in two weeks than most of those ninnies could have done in two years. Might I ask exactly how you happened across this misinformation regarding my associate?”

“He told me. Which means he’ll tell others, and then we’ll be left with the crap all over our bespoke.”

“Let’s assume I believe that obvious fib. Harvey, you’re a sporting man; why don’t we make a wager,” she said, finally meeting his gaze.

“Jessica, now is not the time for games.”

“Harvey, you’ve got a hell of lot of balls to demand sobriety from me. You’re the one who’s never treated anything in his life seriously: not your time at Harvard, the DA’s office, or even your stint as an associate here. Why ruin your streak?”

He gave her a withering look before exhaling sharply.

“Fine, I’ll hear your terms.”

“If Mike loses his mock trial, he’ll leave and then I’ll personally clean up any potential threats he could pose. If he wins, however, you’ll agree to let me deal with my own associate as I see fit.”

“Why should I bet on that? Aren’t you going to be the judge for the competition?”

“For most of the matches, yes. But I can’t exactly judge my own associate, can I? His opponent will be Kyle. Assignments are supposed to be random, but Louis won’t pass up the chance to put his pony up against my guy. So I can’t have Louis judge them, either. That means the only partner capable of being a really intimidating judge is-”

“…Me?! Doesn’t that put me at a huge advantage? I could ignore the merits of their arguments and just rule in Kyle’s favor no matter what happens.”

“But then you’d have to put up with Louis’ self-righteous bragging. Worse than that, you’d always know that you cheated to get your win. I know you, Harvey; you might bend the rules, but you don’t break them.”

“So you think. I’m warning you, Jessica. Whatever decision I make will be final, and if I rule against Mike you’d better have him out of the building by the close of business.”

“So be it. Don’t you have a meeting or something? Or do you think that you can slack now that I’ve made you a judge?”

Harvey shot her a dirty look as he stepped out. Jessica was able to get the ball back in their possession. Now she just needed Donna to dunk it.

Speaking of which, she had a phone call with LeBron at 11:00.

\-----

“Mike, what are you doing sitting at your desk? The assignments for mock trial are going to start any minute in the library.”

“See, funny thing actually – I didn’t know about that until early this morning,” he explained as he got up to follow her.

“What? Didn’t you get the emails?”

“I found them a couple hours ago. After the first three office-wide memos consisted of nothing more than fire drill warnings and an anonymous complaint about the heavy breathing of Barbara in M&A, I figured I could just mark those as spam.”

“You know, Mike, you’re completely hopeless when you’re not terrifyingly brilliant. Are you sure you’re not a savant?”

“Hey, that’s an offensive word…I think. Is it just the associates participating, by the way?”

“What, you wanted to see me kick Jeffrey’s ass? Sorry, but paralegals serve as clients and witnesses only. That is, when we’re not busy trying to keep the associates from dumping their prep work on us.”

“So can you be my client?”

“Nope, I’m already Kyle’s client. You really should have read that email; you’ll be lucky to find anyone to help you.”

“Kyle? Are you serious?”

“He paid for me to have dinner at Annisa. Just try to top that.”

Mike hung his head and wondered whether puppy-dog eyes would work on Rachel. She seemed to be vexingly immune to his overtures, though, so he thought of whom else he could rope into his future fiasco.

And it definitely would be one. True, he’d owned that settlement meeting the week before. But meetings and depositions weren’t trials, and reading about it in a book was a lot different than actually taking part in one. Jessica had yet to actually have to go to court, so he hadn’t even been given the chance to see her snuff out whatever unfortunate sap had been thrown before her like an atang.

Mike’s potential opponents, however, were definitely not lacking in the experience department. Attending Harvard necessitated participation in these sorts of activities, and if the clubs there were anything like the mock trial club at college, his co-workers would have no qualms about being ruthless. He recalled his classmates spending whole days in the student center preparing statements and hounding ‘witnesses’ (cafeteria workers and janitors).

“I now call the fifty-fourth annual Pearson Hardman Mock Trial Competition to order. This is a noble and much celebrated tradition, almost as old as the Harvard rule…”

Louis’ oddly excited voice drowned out Mike’s previous thoughts once Rachel had opened the door. The junior partner stood before all the various associates of Pearson Hardman, even the ones who had their own offices or lived in their respective departments rather than in the bullpen. Some were enthusiastic, others broadcast terror; aside from Mike, though, not one of them was the least bit preoccupied.

Well, to be fair, they didn’t have to worry about their entire lives being wrecked by someone sitting in his office on the other side of the building.

“…further ado, I’ll begin the assignments. The first name I call will be the complainant’s attorney and the second will be counsel for the accused. I’m not going to repeat myself so listen well. Devon, you’ll be up against Harold. Jeffrey you’re with…”

A hand rested itself on Mike’s shoulder and he turned to see Donna standing behind him. “Hey, kiddo. Nervous?”

“More like clueless, Donna. He didn’t even know the mock trials were this week,” Rachel sniped without turning away from the action in front of them.

“Well you’d better get with it, Mike. I think you’ll find Jessica gave you an extra challenge.”

“What?” he asked, wanting to know what that was supposed to mean. But there wasn’t time to get an answer out of her, because Mike was just attuned enough to hear Louis calling his name.

“…you’ll be up against Mike Ross, starting on Wednesday.”

Mike walked up to the front of a room, finding a smirking Kyle waiting beside the table with Louis. He took the outstretched folder and began to make his way back when the junior partner halted him.

“Wait, there’s an addendum,” Louis said, perplexed. He flipped to the end of his instructions and did a double take as he read the note there. “It says your judge will be Harvey. That doesn’t make any sense; he hasn’t participated in one of these since his first year here. I’ll double check that for you two.”

“There’s no need, Louis,” Donna piped in, everyone turning to look at her. “Harvey sent me here to confirm with you that he will be judging Kyle and Mike as a stand-in for Jessica.”

Just like that, the floor fell out from under Mike for the second time since Saturday afternoon. He felt queasy and the tremors were returning. He needed to get out of this overcrowded room before he passed out.

“Ross, I think we should have a preliminary settlement discussion,” Kyle said, motioning towards the door. Mike nodded dumbly, thankful for the excuse but wary of the reason.

\-----

“Donna, did you relay the message?” Harvey asked as Donna strolled into his office. They hadn’t spoken yet that day – he’d left a post-it on her computer with the instruction while she was in the copy room.

“Yes, but that’s not important. You’re wearing a saffron tie. What do you want to tell me, Harvey?”

“The idea that I color coordinate my outfit to my mood is ridiculous. My only thought when I get dressed is looking as good as I always do.”

“Keep telling yourself that…after you’ve told me what’s going on. Why are you assisting the mock trial competition? Did you have a stroke?”

“Donna, what I’m about to say stays between us.”

“What is it? You know I only leak the tidbits you tell me to slip into the office rumor mill.”

“You see…wait, how do I turn off the intercom?”

Harvey sat back as the woman fussed for a minute. She refused to just teach him how to do it for fear he might block her from his future conversations. Although in truth, he’d grown accustomed to her eavesdropping and had come to rely on it.

“There, now what is so damned important, Harvey?”

“It’s about Mike. He-”

“He sucked you off like a champ. Yeah, I got that part the other day.”

Harvey blanched. Donna never bothered to sugarcoat her words with him. It wasn’t as though he stuffily indirect or anything, but he did consider himself a gentleman.

“He’s not a real lawyer, Donna. He didn’t go to Harvard or any other law school. Hell, the fraud didn’t even finish undergrad. He’s been lying to us all.”

His assistant paused, stunned, as though she’d been expecting something else entirely. “How could I not know that?” she asked rhetorically. “I’m Donna. Harvey, do you know what this means? I’m not omniscient. Oh god, I think I’m going to faint.”

Harvey rolled his eyes as she resumed her seat. The woman couldn’t help trying to brush up her acting bona fides, even in a crisis.

“Wait, how did you find out?”

“He told me, Donna. Saturday afternoon, after he watched me beat the snot out of Scottie he told me that he was a fraud. If he’s told me, he might tell other people. We need to get rid of him before he brings Pearson Hardman down.”

“Harvey, why did he tell you?”

“I don’t know. He wasn’t clear on-”

“Don’t lie to me, Harvey. The crease of your right crow’s foot is off by a nanometer; I know you’re fibbing. Do you want me to have Harold get you some moisturizer for that, by the way?”

“No. Alright, fine. He said that he only told me because he didn’t want to lie to me. That he ‘couldn’t’, actually.”

Donna’s eyes gleamed in a way Harvey hadn’t witnessed since the disaster with Zoe. “Then what did you do?”

“I told him to go. The last thing I need is another Scottie in my life.”

“Harvey. Reginald. Specter. You damned, stupid, asinine, cold-hearted, insensitive, impossible idiot!” she screamed, waving her arms around for emphasis. “I swear, I don’t even know why I bother with you sometimes.”

Where the hell had this tirade begun? The last time he’d been near Scottie, Donna had yelled at him to cut her from his life; she’d even hung up on the woman and deleted her emails to him. Now he’d rooted out another headache all on his own and she was still yelling at him. He felt like he’d been studying for a law exam only to find the test questions written in Hindi.

“If Mike said that, and he does come off as the type of guy who might, then he is the polar opposite of Scottie,” she lectured from across the desk. “Think about it – Scottie always hid things from you because she’d rather lie than be vulnerable with you. Here Mike tries to tell you exactly who he is and you slam the door in his face. If that’s the way you react to the admission of imperfection, it’s no wonder you end up with partners like Scottie.”

“You’re being ludicrous, Donna! He’s a scam artist in one of Rene’s suits. Do you expect me to just overlook that?”

“Does Jessica know?”

“Yes. Apparently she had a momentary brain lapse and decided to hire him anyway. She should be barred from bringing anyone else into the company. If it had been me in that interview room this never would have happened.”

“Harvey, that woman hired you.”

“Yes, and she stuck me in the mailroom and made me go to law school. I wasn’t enrolled the new Pearson Hardman fast track program: buy a degree and just fake your way until you have a goddamn clue of what you’re doing.”

“You also graduated from Columbia, so it’s a little different. Besides that, he’s better without a degree than the other rookies.”

“Why does everyone keep thinking that makes it right?! It doesn’t change what he is: a goddamned huge liability. Nor does it make up for the fact that I’m working for a woman who decides to take her chances on a kid who could blab his secret to anyone,” Harvey countered, taking a breath. “There is a silver lining, though.”

“Which is?”

“If Mike Ross loses his mock trial, Jessica will fire him – same day.”

Donna immediately rose to her feet and Harvey knew exactly what was on her mind. He got up and tried to chase her but she beat him to the door.

“Donna, I forbid you to aid Mike.”

“You ‘forbid’ me? Really? You do that and I go on strike. I’ll stick you with a temp so bad you’ll lose half your clients to Louis.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll have him change your filing system.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she accused, and the face she made left no wiggle room. “Mike’s going to make you see what a fool you are and I’m going to help him do just that. And that’s final.”

After she’d disappeared from view Harvey pulled out a Coltrane record and listened to it as he tried to calm himself. Fraud, (gross) negligence, and now insubordination – had everyone in his life gone absolutely mad? At least there was still Harold.

Crap.

He was supposed to be helping his associate prep for his own mock trial case.

\-----

From: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 11:58 AM

_You neglected to mention the elephant in the room about a certain someone._

To: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Sent: 12:03 PM

_Does that actually change anything about the situation?_

From: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 12:05 PM

_No. But I’m a little hurt. Buy me some shoes?_

To: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Sent: 12:06 PM

_No dice._

\-----

“So Ross, have you considered my proposal?” Kyle asked as Mike returned from the cafeteria downstairs.

“You mean settling our case out of court, Durant? It sounds good to me,” he replied, setting down his coffee and moving over to the other associate’s cubicle.

“Good. Shake on it?”

He nervously extended a hand and the black-haired man shook it with a dirty grin.

“Don’t you dare fall for that ploy, Mike,” Donna commanded, breezing into the pool.

“Huh?”

“Donna, you can’t interfere in meetings between counselors,” Kyle said, eyeing her nervously.

“I can when my attorney is walking into a trap. Mike, you need a Lina Lunders, right? Well, you’re looking at her, and she’s telling you that that handshake is no better than Missy Dietler’s research.”

“That’s unfair!” Kyle shouted. “I can’t go up against the judge’s assistant. I’m going to tell Louis to stop this.”

“And do you think he’ll be able to do that, Kyle? He’s just as scared of me as you are,” she smirked. “Here’s some advice: you might want to bring a couple fresh pairs of underwear for trial, brat.”

Kyle looked back and forth between Mike and Donna before thundering off in the direction of the junior partner’s office.

“Donna, why are you helping me?” Mike asked, more than a little bemused.

“Doesn’t matter, kiddo. But you’d better get to work prepping your case.”

“I have ten briefs I need to proof for Jessica before tomorrow, though.”

“Mike, the mock trial is your top priority. You _cannot_ lose.”

“Why is everyone here so obsessed with these pretend trials? It’s a fake case, Donna. If I screw up the real ones just to win this stupid little dog show I’ll definitely get canned.”

Donna slapped him across the face. Hard.

“Ow!”

“Mike, you’re my lawyer, and that means you do what I tell you. Figure out how you’re going to smash Kyle in court. I have to get back to my desk before Harvey returns from the men’s room.”

\-----

Harvey was busily crafting a motion for dismissal after lunch on Tuesday when he heard the shouting begin…or at least he wished he had been. Things were tenser with Donna than they’d been almost ever and he couldn’t focus on his clients’ needs. She’d even disconnected her intercom, forcing him to shout at her through the wall or make the trip to her desk for the more sensitive stuff. Every time he looked over at her she was working, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was staring daggers at him when his attention was elsewhere.

Regardless of all that, the noises from down the hall woke him from his thoughts. By the time he’d reached his door they’d grown into a cacophony of screaming voices and objects crashing into one another.

“Donna, do you have any idea what’s going on?”

The woman said nothing, keeping her head trained on the monitor in front of her. He’d have to deal with it himself, it seemed.

“Harvey, should I be calling security?” Louis asked as the senior partner passed by his office on the way to the conference room.

“Yes, Louis. And then be sure to barricade yourself until I tell you it’s safe to come out,” he joked. The man gave him a scowl and Harvey was about to follow it up until another loud bang necessitated he hurry to the scene.

The sight brought him back to his days at the DA’s office. Harold was sitting with his head buried in his notebook, his hands covering his ears. Their pro-bono clients were throwing pens, cups, paper – anything in reach, really – at the woman he guessed was the salon manager. Opposing council was just as useless at corralling his own client, who was shielding herself with a chair. In fact, there was only one person in the room trying to prevent further escalation.

How the hell had he even gotten himself involved in the situation? For fuck’s sake, that little weasel couldn’t keep himself out of Harvey’s business for a single day. And here he was snatching projectiles out of the air and yelling for everyone to calm down.

“I called the cops!” Harvey shouted at all the people in the room. It seemed only one of their clients understood English well enough to get the meaning, but she translated the message for the others and they dropped their makeshift missiles.

“Bạn sẽ vào tù, bạn gái điếm bẩn!” the salon manager accused, lowering her chair. Harvey had no idea what it meant, but upon hearing it the women across from her resumed their assault. The chair came back up and it looked like the war was back on.

“ENOUGH!” Harvey bellowed, sending Harold cowering underneath the desk. “You,” he pointed at the manager, “get out. Bob, we’ll discuss another settlement date another time.”

The lawyer nodded and grabbed his client by the elbow, hauling her out of the room. The women was snapping pictures of cuts on her hand with her phone even before they’d made it to the elevators.

“You, too,” Harvey ordered at Mike, “leave.”

“Harvey, he was just trying to help,” Harold said as he rose from underneath the desk. “He ran in when he heard the commotion.”

“He’s not on this case, and he shouldn’t even be here.”

Jessica’s associate was frozen with a look of fear on his face but slowly made his way out of the room. Harvey didn’t miss the way the man tripped over himself as he headed for the bullpen.

“All of you, I don’t know what that woman said, but you just shot your chances of getting a decent settlement in the foot. Go home and I’ll call you if I think there’s a way to salvage anything from this mess.”

“Harvey, I’m really sorry,” Harold whimpered as the women exited. Harvey ignored him and made sure the manager had left already. He didn’t need a fistfight to start in the elevator bank.

“Harold, go wait in my office. You’re going to tell me what happened, in detail. And you’d better thank God this was just a pro bono, or you might be heading for the lobby, yourself.”

In truth, Harold was about the only person who wasn’t on the receiving end of Harvey’s fury at the moment. Still, putting the fear of death in him might help the kid beat Devon.

\-----

“Grammy?” Mike asked as he made his way into her room Tuesday night.

“Michael, what an unexpected surprise,” she said smiling. “To what do I owe this honor?”

“Can’t I just stop by and say hello?”

“Possibly, but it’s not in your nature. Does this have anything to do with the way you were trying to get sloshed on Sunday?”

“You use the word ‘sloshed’?”

“Michael, I wasn’t always a grandmother. What’s the matter?”

“Grammy, I think I’m in big trouble. I told somebody at work something I wasn’t supposed to let slip, and now he could have me canned for it.”

“Would this somebody happen to be that Mr. Specter you were going on and on about a week ago?”

“Erm.”

“Oh, Michael. Is it really as bad as you think it is, or are you blowing everything out of proportion?”

“Grammy, it’s bad.”

“Michael, you're a quick wit. Heck, you even beat me in checkers once-”

“Grammy, you let me win that time,” he said with a chuckle.

“Do you really think that Harvey wants to get you fired?”

“I don’t know. But he’s never been angrier with me than he was today.”

“People have their good days and their bad days. You know how upset I get with Loretta when she loses the remote after cleaning my room. But life goes on and we’re back to being friends before long.”

“Harvey can hold a grudge, though.”

“No one can hold a grudge forever. Be yourself…but not too much of yourself. I’m sure he’ll remember all the reasons why he wanted to be your friend before long.”

“There’s a slight hitch. He’s the judge in my firm’s mock trial competition. I’ll be seeing a lot of him over the next two days and I’ll have to get nasty to win.”

“Just because you’re playing someone else’s game doesn’t mean you have to play by their rules. Look at you – who would have expected you’d get a job at a law firm in the first place? You don’t even look like a lawyer.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know my boss made me drop a month’s rent on this suit alone.”

“I’m talking about your eyes, Michael. But never mind that; my grandson is here and I want to berate him with stories now that he’s not downing alcoholic drinks like it’s the last day on Earth.”

“Sure thing, Grammy,” he promised, pulling a chair up to her bed and readying himself for endless whinging about the obnoxious patient down the hall.

\-----

The next morning found Mike back in the library taking deep breaths.

His first trial was about to begin in a few short moments, and there were so many things vying for his brain’s attention. The amount of Donna’s cleavage on display, left exposed by her mind-bogglingly tight dress, for instance. Or how preposterous Harvey Specter looked in judicial robes. Had a platypus with a powdered wig sat beside him at the bench, he wouldn’t have been one iota more believable.

“All rise. The honorable Judge Specter presiding,” Louis announced, his shame at being reduced to serving as bailiff obvious. At the word ‘honorable’ he’d actually cringed.

The four of them – Donna and himself as well as Kyle and Rachel – did just that. Kyle obviously expected to give his opening statements, but Mike cut in with a motion to alter the case into a defamation rather than wrongful termination claim. Harvey agreed fairly quickly and passed them each a file, granting the assembled crowd a half hour recess.

“So that went well,” Donna said as she helped herself to a cup of orange juice.

“Yeah, we’re on offense now. That means we just need to prove the malicious intent of Rachel’s character’s action and we win. Still, there might be a problem.”

“And what might that be?”

“I’m going to have to nail Rachel on the stand. It’s just-”

“It’s just that you’re her friend and you’re worried about your relationship after the trial?”

“Yup.”

“Mike, Rachel’s a big girl. She’s served in mock trials before and she knows what it entails. Just don’t be an ass during cross-examination. Oh, and Regina – she can be a little empty-headed.”

“Right, we need her testimony, too.”

Mike headed for the bathroom and splashed some water on his face. Too nervous for conversation in the hallway he opted to take his seat and wait for the recommencement of the trial. As he did, though, he caught Harvey’s gaze. The older man was glaring at him. He hadn’t stopped two minutes later when Mike dared to look up from his notes. Okay, so the senior partner hadn’t cooled off at all since the day before. Still, he’d probably get it out of his system by the time the actual trial began.

When the trial began again, he figured everything was normal as far as the case itself was concerned. The trouble, though, started in earnest when he’d gotten a few steps into his line of questions for Regina.

“Objection, leading.”

“Sustained.”

Usually judges at least offered the other side a moment to refute the objection. Harvey, however, had answered the complaint almost as soon as it was lodged. Mike kept his cool and rephrased the question. He managed to coax out the right answer from his witness and moved on to the next question.

“Objection-”

“Sustained.”

Now Mike knew exactly what Harvey was doing. This was low, even considering what Mike had confessed the previous week. Taking a moment, Mike tried to compose himself.

“Objection, hesitation,” Kyle tossed off, enjoying his newfound ability to stop Mike’s train of thought at a moment’s notice.

“Sustained.”

“Oh come on, Harvey. That’s not even a valid grievance and you know it.” Mike’s protestation elicited the slightest of smirks from Louis.

“I will have you held for contempt of court if you address me in that manner again, counselor.”

Donna snickered at that.

“Would you care to join him, _Ms. Lunders_?”

“Don’t let the robes go to your head, _Judge Specter_ ,” she launched back at him.

“Bailiff, remove the complainant from the hall.” Louis moved to do just that but Donna leered him away and walked herself out.

Great. Now his client had been ejected and he was one wrong move away from giving Harvey all the excuse he needed to do the same to him. Still, Donna’s outburst had given enough time to formulate a new thread of inquiry.

“Ms. Richardson, how would you describe your boss’ demeanor?” he asked Regina.

“Forceful, wise, lovable once you get to know her. She’s the kind of woman you want to be yourself.” (Lina Lunders was a part made for Donna if there ever was one. Or better yet, Jessica.)

“And how has the company performed under her management?”

“Excellently. Profits have increased the last four years.”

“How about her mentorship and employee oversight?”

“She spots talent and promotes it. There haven’t been any major screw-ups elevated to managerial positions under her tutelage.”

“One more question,” he said as he turned to stare at Harvey right in his eyes. “You wouldn’t describe her as capricious or brutish, would you?”

“Objection, leading.”

“Sustained.”

“I have no further questions for this witness at this time,” Mike concluded, sitting down.

\-----

“Mike? Jessica wants to see you in her office,” Wendy summoned him as she approached his desk later that afternoon.

“Is she going to demand a severed finger for my performance in direct examination?”

From behind, Kyle let out a snicker. “You mean because I’m owning your ass?” the associate called out as they left the pool.

“Jessica wouldn’t show you the mercy of asking you to disfigure yourself if she was really that angry,” Wendy assured. “And Mike, she’s not the one you should be worrying about now. But I’m sure you’ll figure out a solution.”

“Right,” he reluctantly affirmed as she sat down at her desk and he opened the door to his boss’ office, the act producing dread for the second time that week.

“Mike,” Jessica started. “I heard you got an asshole judge.”

“You ‘heard’? Didn’t you know it would be exactly like this from the beginning? After all, you were the one that allowed him to judge my case.”

“Yes, well, I was hoping that he’d be impartial.”

“You expected Harvey to have some maturity?”

Jessica rolled her eyes at his remark and motioned for him to sit. “Harvey’s a lot of things, but it’s not in his nature to be unjust. Still, I’m glad to hear that you held it together. Especially after your client was ejected from court – twice on the same day, even.”

“Well, I did manage to finish examining her, at least. What’s up with Donna today, though? I thought she and Harvey were on good terms with each other. Is there trouble in paradise?”

“Mike, I need to tell you something. I got Harvey to back off by making a deal. I said that I’d let you go if you lost the trial.”

“Jessica, that’s insane! He’s the judge; he can rule whichever way he pleases! No wonder he’s been so blatantly biased – he’s been ruining my case so he can legitimize his dismissal of the defamation charges.”

“Mike, calm down. Don’t forget the fact that you caused all of this in the first place by telling him your secret. Nevertheless, it’s time for another lesson, and this one’s a doozy.”

“What is it? Pack one of those memory-erasing pens from _Men In Black_ for whenever you make a mistake in court?”

“No, only I get to use those, and only in absolute emergencies. What I want you to learn is that there’s more than one way to beat a man.”

“I’m pretty sure the only way to beat Kyle is to get Harvey to rule in my favor, and that’s not going to happen when all the motivation he has is to do just the opposite.”

“So then change the motivation. I don’t know how you developed the camaraderie you had with him last week, but you could try to get it back. Or convince him that you’re a valuable enough employee that your assets outweigh your limitations. The case is about what’s going on in his mind, so figure out what he wants and give it to him.”

“What if all he wants is for me to get fired?”

“Then you’re screwed,” Jessica scoffed, before adding, “but you won’t know that until you’ve tried every other possibility.”

“I won’t have enough time to try everything.”

Jessica paused and thought for a moment.

“Mike, take a page from Harvey’s book and think outside the law. Surely you must have learned something about him in the time you spent helping him.”

\-----

Mike struggled to keep himself from hyperventilating before his cross-examination of Rachel. Apparently everyone had heard about the fireworks the day before, because the library was packed. The audience included Jessica herself, who he surmised had appeared to warn Harvey against continuing the fun he’d had shutting Mike down on Kyle’s behalf.

Oddly enough, fun was exactly the word for it. The senior partner seemed to derive some kind of twisted pleasure in throwing Mike off his game. The associate’s eidetic memory couldn’t make up for his lack of experience, so whenever he stalled and tried to think of what he should do in a given moment, Kyle pounced and Harvey allowed it. Each sustained objection threw him off kilter and derailed his chance of convincing the partners of his abilities.

Blessedly, Thursday’s proceedings were mostly mundane thus far. Kyle examined Donna with a predictable line of questions that just barely satisfied the defense he’d need to escape defamation charges should Mike falter.

Mike, for his part, had tossed in the occasional objection at the right times, but Harvey had denied them all. Well, that wasn’t entirely true: he had sustained the associate’s challenge to an obvious leading question, apparently unable to maintain his bias momentarily. Even that minor acquiescence had elicited shocked gasps from the gallery.

The only things Mike had going for him were the looks his client shot at the judge. Donna seemed ready to jump up to the bench and strangle her boss. Mike couldn’t figure out why she was going so far out on a limb for him, but he was infinitely grateful.

“We’ll now begin with cross-examination of Ms. Thompson. Counselor Ross?” Harvey called.

“Yo yo yo, what up what up? May I please the judgzilla,” Mike sang as he stepped into the well. (He’d thought up the maneuver as means of shaking out his nerves while possibly amusing Harvey. At the very least, he wouldn't be ejected on the final day of the trial.) The gallery clearly didn’t know whether to laugh or hide any acknowledgement of the bizarre display. A few stifled chuckles rippled forth, but the senior partner seemed unfazed, leaning back in his chair.

“Ms. Thompson, _how many fingers am I holding up?_ ” Mike asked as he made the Vulcan salute.

“Uh, four, I guess,” Rachel answered, puzzled like everyone else.

“Objection, relevance.”

“Sustained,” Harvey replied, although Mike didn’t miss the curiosity on the man’s face.

“ _So what kind of combat training do you have?_ ”

“What?”

“Well, I mean you did that impersonation; you had to be itching for a fight. Your id was probably all _‘DO IT, DO IT, DO IT’_ , right?”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Rachel said, turning to Kyle for help.

“What did you think your boss thought of you? Was it something like _‘All she's got isn't good enough’_?”

“No, my evaluations were positive,” Rachel said, although the confusion made her statement seem like a question.

“How about the ‘lacks skills’ part? _You call this a favor?_ ” Mike asked as he slapped the document with the back of his hand. “Exhibit D, your honorness.”

“Does opposing counsel contest?” Harvey asked, turning to Kyle.

“Uh, to the freaky questions?”

“To the admission of the exhibit, you moron!” the senior partner scolded.

“Oh…no. None at this time,” Kyle answered sheepishly.

“So noted. Exhibit is accepted. The witness will answer the question.”

“She’s required to put in something bad in all her evaluations. Everything else was positive.”

Mike noted that Harvey had abandoned his veneer of boredom, eagerly anticipating his next question. When the associate turned back to face the gallery, he found his boss covering her mouth with her hand.

“ _There's only one kind of woman...or man, for that matter. You either believe in yourself or you don't._ Isn’t that right, Ms. Thompson?” Mike asked, now just in front of the witness stand.

“I suppose. I don’t really understand you, though.”

“ _It’s logic_ , Ms. Thompson. _I thought you’d like that._ ”

“Frankly, your logic confuses me, counselor.”

“ _Did I ever tell you you play a very irritating game of chess_ , Ms. Thompson?”

“…Huh?”

“ _The logical thing is to be unpredictable_ , Ms. Thompson. But I think I know what was going on. When you first showed up at the company, you learned that most employees moved up to management in four years. You thought ‘Four years? I'll do it in three’. But then you got lazy.”

“No. I was just as good as ever,” Rachel pleaded a bit louder, as though she wasn’t sure where she was anymore.

“ _Another dream that failed. There's nothing sadder._ ”

“But my dream hasn’t died! I still want to move up.”

“ _You're a dead duck here, you're powerless. We know about you, and we don't want to play._ ”

“Objection.”

“Overruled.”

Mike turned from Kyle’s stunned face to Harvey, whose lips were curled just a bit more than earlier. It seemed like his plan was working. Phew.

“ _Jealousy. Yes, that would explain the attack_ , wouldn’t it, Ms. Thompson?”

“I’m not jealous of Ms. Lunders.”

“But you do want her position and the privilege that comes with it? After all, _one of the advantages of being a captain, doctor, is being able to ask for advice without necessarily having to take it._ Wouldn’t you like that advantage?”

“Ummm…I don’t- of course?”

“ _Genius doesn't work on an assembly line basis. You can't simply say, 'today I will be brilliant’._ You just don’t have the skills that Ms. Lunders has or needs. Isn’t that correct?”

“I do have her skills!”

“No, you ‘lack skills’. She wrote that herself. And I have a feeling that you know that. _Sometimes a feeling is all we humans have to go on, after all._ ”

“She just wrote that; she didn’t mean it.”

“ _No more blah, blah, blah_ – she told you that you didn’t have what it took and you decided to have a little revenge with her. But you couldn’t even do it to her face. You posted your nasty attack on the internet.”

“Someone else posted it!”

“ _Those are beautiful words; well-acted. Change nothing_.”

“It’s the truth!”

“ _Galloping around the cosmos is a game for the young_ , Ms. Thompson. You knew one of your co-workers would post it. You’ve spent five years working with that bunch of idiots and you couldn’t stand to realize that you were stuck with them. So you snapped.”

“I deserved a promotion! That woman owes everything she has to me!” Rachel burst. She slunk back after closing her mouth, immediately recognizing her mistake. Mike prayed she wouldn’t be too pissed with him after this was all over.

“ _A little suffering is good for the soul_ , Ms. Thompson. Maybe that’s what Ms. Lunders was thinking by not promoting you year after year – that you’d ship up,” Mike said as he walked back to his seat. “But I’m certain you know my client didn’t deserve that nasty and false assault on her character. No more questions for this witness. We rest, your honorola,” he finished before Kyle could object.

“In light of the duration of this trial, I’m going to waive closing arguments. Any objections, counselors?- good,” Harvey said, picking up his gavel.

Mike so had this. He was ready to pat himself on the back just as soon as Harvey ruled in his favor. The senior partner had to – there was no way the man could deny him that after he’d constructed an entire line of questions based around Kirk quotes and used it to shock Rachel into what she’d said. Even Donna seemed to share his confidence.

“Ms. Lunders, you may have acted wrongly in firing Ms. Thompson, but that was not the focus of this trial. No, this case was about whether or not Ms. Thompson acted maliciously in performing that imitation of her boss and further whether she had knowledge that it would be released beyond the audience that viewed it originally.

“Clearly you have unresolved tension regarding your time working with Ms. Lunders, Ms. Thompson, but I was not satisfactorily persuaded as to your ill intent in this matter specifically. Therefore, I’m moving to dismiss the charges of defamation of character and slander lodged against you. Accordingly, I’m ruling in favor of the defendant. Durant wins.”

…

What the hell had just happened? He’d won that case. He knew he had. Everything was a blur and he felt like the room was spinning.

“I’m on strike!” Donna shouted beside him, hurrying to leave the library.

“Mike, go straight home,” Jessica warned once she’d made her way through the baffled assembly. “Don’t talk to anyone on your way out. Don’t stop in the bathroom. Don’t call me; I’ll call you.”

He nodded his understanding and rose on his quaking legs. He made sure not to look back at the judge’s bench as he exited the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to make an admission. I haven't watched more than a few clips of the original Star Trek (or any Star Trek, for that matter), so I used IMDB and a number of quote-aggregating websites for Mike's cross-examination. If I made a goof, feel free to let me know.
> 
> Oddly, the original version of this chapter had Harvey ruling in Mike's favor and ended with the associate topping Kyle in a drunken one-night stand. Heh heh heh. (I haven't ruled out the possibility of doing a Harvey/Mike/Kyle scene, but it probably won't be in this story.)


	9. Messy Retreats & Unwanted Advances

“I need some weed.”

“I don’t know what kind of business you think this is, bro, but I only sell bagels and coffee. If you want something beside that you’ll have to go somewhere else,” the man beside the cart answered nervously.

“I just lost my job five minutes ago and I don’t want to argue with you. Take the four Jacksons in my hand and give me a bag, or else I’ll go do business with the guy five blocks up,” Mike pressed, keeping his voice low.

“Alright, alright,” the guy responded, taking the money and slipping him a folded newspaper. “Now beat it before you lure the cops over to me. You suits are nothing but bad luck.”

“You think this is the first time I’ve done this?” Mike asked rhetorically. He shoved the paper into his satchel and hopped on his bike, heading off into the weekday traffic. With some luck he’d be home in a half hour. Mary Jane was the most stable mistress he’d ever had, and now that he was done playing pretend attorney he could see her again.

Except that being a lawyer was his dream, and in the better part of the month he’d spent at Pearson Hardman he’d felt more fulfilled and developed more friendships than at any point in his life.

Fuck Harvey Specter. Mike told one person and the whole goddamn game was over because that one person was a heartless bastard. And damn himself, too, he thought, for thinking that whatever they’d had would have lasted.

Dodging a Bentley as he crossed over to the bikeway on the Williamsburg Bridge, he willed himself to focus on the road a little longer. He at least wanted to enjoy a day of pot, stoner chow, and video games before dying or getting incarcerated. The universe owed him that much, provided he wasn’t a complete idiot…again.

When he arrived back at home base, he hauled his bike past the landlord and up the foul-smelling stairs. He shucked off his suit, leaving all the odds and ends on his bed, then headed back out to the kitchen in an old t-shirt and a pair of boxers. Unfolding the newspaper, he retrieved the fattest cigarette and a lighter from the top shelf and sat down at the tiny table. It took him half a minute to get the stuck window open, but with some ventilation (he’d never been into hotboxing) he sat back, toasted the panda painting, and lit up.

He’d almost forgotten how nice getting baked could feel. Well, not really, but he knew what he meant.

\-----

“Donna? Donna,” Harvey called out as he chased his assistant to the elevators.

“I think you’ve said more than enough for today, Reginald,” she answered, her heels pounding the tiles of the entryway.

“Donna, do you want a day off? I can give you two, max,” he offered, hoping this was just her being overdramatic…except replace ‘hoping’ with ‘praying to God’.

“That is not what this is about, and you know it,” she answered, smacking the down button a half-dozen times. “Listen up: if you so much as text me before you’ve fixed what you’ve done I will post your Social Security number on the side of the Empire State Building.”

“Donna, you’re not thinking clearly. Let’s just take a moment to stop and-”

“No, Harvey. Don’t even try to get in this elevator and give me the hard sell. Good luck with the temp, boss,” she mocked, heading into the lift. She turned and stared at him with a raised eyebrow until the doors closed between them.

Harvey banged the bottom of his fist against the wall, then collected himself. He didn’t need to stir up rumors in the office gossip pool. The best thing to do now would be to get back to his clients, he figured, so he set off in that direction. When he passed through the associates’ pool and saw the empty desk across from his associate’s, though, he felt a twinge of guilt rising up inside him.

Damn him. The kid had no right to make Harvey feel bad. All he’d done was show the rookie the door after Jessica gave him permission. Now he just had to think of a way to get Donna to come to her senses and then everything would be right again.

Of course, that would be easier said than done. But he knew his assistant well and the best place to start the blockade was her checking account. Shaking his head out, he decided to make a detour to the managing partner’s office, since he’d want her permission to tell payroll to start deducting days from Donna’s next check.

“You must be joking,” Jessica’s voice called out as Harvey approached her side of the floor. As he approached, Wendy got up and blocked his path.

“One idiot at a time,” the assistant advised.

Harvey turned to see Durant standing in front of Jessica’s desk, holding out his hands in a supplicating gesture.

“All the associates know that you fired Mike for losing the mock trial, and seeing as how I’m the one who beat him, I’m your best choice to replace him.”

“Look, Curly, I’m not replacing Mike, and even if I was, I sure as hell wouldn’t pick you to fill his shoes. Now I’m going to extend you a little courtesy and pretend that you didn’t come in here and ask to sit at the grown-ups’ table, since as you said, you won your trial. But if you ever pull a stunt like this again,” she began, walking closer to the associate so that she towered over him, “you’ll be applying to firms in Winnipeg.”

“Y-yes, Ms. Pearson.”

“Stop standing around and get back to work,” Jessica directed, sending the young man packing. Harvey barely had time to dodge him as he fled.

“What do you want now, Harvey?” his boss asked, taking a seat on the couch.

“Donna’s left for the day and she might not come back for a while. I need you to agree to let me cut off her pay going forward.”

“Her salary comes out of yours, anyway. It’s not like I would have any grounds to stop you, and you clearly don’t give a damn what I think. Just go do whatever you want,” she urged, waving a hand for him to follow Kyle’s lead.

“Jessica, I need things to be okay between us. I did what I did for the firm – your firm. Inevitably you’ll realize how reckless it would have been to let someone like him stick around, no matter how many cases he might have helped win. Did you even think about what you would have told him years in when he asked for a promotion and you couldn’t give him one because it would focus the spotlight?”

“Harvey, there might come a day when I can stand to listen to your attempts to justify what you did. But it’s not today, and if you’re asking me to assuage any doubts you’re feeling, you can forget it.”

He sighed inwardly. Despite the strength the name Harvey Specter conveyed to others, he felt helpless when the two most important women in his life weren’t on his side. Still, he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself and reverse the decision he’d made. They would just have to realize that he meant more to them than some cheat with a freak brain, and that shouldn’t take too long.

“Oh, there is one thing we should talk about briefly,” Jessica hinted when he’d begun opening the door. “You’ll need a replacement for Donna. I’ll have Wendy contact the temp agency.”

“No.”

“Harvey, you need someone to-”

“I don’t want someone else. I can fly solo until Donna comes back.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Damnit, Jessica! I fought to get Donna a job here even though it meant accepting every one of your terms. If it’s not her then I don’t need an assistant.”

“You’re right: you need three of them, but by some divine miracle you found the one woman who could sort out all your shit. I’m not going to let the firm suffer while you drown in admin – you’ll take a temp, and that’s final.”

Harvey simmered all the way back to his office. He smoldered through his favorite Miles Davis records. He seethed through finalizing a contract for one of his Silicon Valley clients. When Ray asked him how his day went on the ride home that evening he told the man to cram it without thinking. Then he boiled over when he got home, downing a quarter of a bottle of scotch.

\-----

Mike’s day had improved markedly. When the pounding began on his door he was teabagging some fifteen-year-old in South Korea. Being eidetic didn’t always extend to muscle memory, but when it came to Halo, that and the weed made him a terrifyingly good executioner.

“Mike, open the fucking door so I know you’re still alive.”

“Jessica?” he asked, disconnecting from Live and heading in the direction of the voice. He unlocked the door and swung it open to see the woman standing in the hallway, clutching her handbag as though it, too, might catch cholera. “Dude, shouldn’t you be avoiding me? Y’know, a little plausible deniability for when Harvey sics the cops on me?”

“Well, you didn’t stick your head in the oven, at least,” she assessed.

“I think I did, actually. It’s amazing the places Cheetos go when you jump up to do a victory dance. You wanna check out the replay of this amazing headshot I pulled off?”

“Mike, go put some pants on.”

“You’re not my boss anymore. You can’t tell me what to do,” he taunted until she grabbed his ear and dragged him to his bedroom.

“Pants, now. I’m not going to have this conversation with you in your underwear.”

“Geez, chill out, lady,” he cried, going for the jeans in the bottom shelf of his nightstand.

“How much have you smoked?”

“Two cigs. Why, you want some?” he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“I told you that you weren’t allowed to light up. Do you want to explain to me why you thought you could break that promise, too?”

“Um, hello, I got fired,” he reminded her, buttoning up his fly. “We’re done because I goofed and the old man couldn’t play it cool.”

“It’s incredible, but somehow you’re even more irritating when you’re high. You do realize the point of marijuana is to mellow out, not jabber, right?”

Mike erupted into a fit of laughter that lasted until he started choking on the dryness of his throat. His boss just rolled her eyes as he ran for the glass of water on the table.

“Wow, Jessica Pearson telling someone to mellow out. Did Hell freeze over today, too?” he ridiculed once he could talk again.

“Mike, you made a deal with the devil. Did you really think it would be this easy to get your soul back?”

“That’s funny, because here I thought you were my Sith lord and I was your apprentice,” he jested, sitting on the depression in his couch.

“I’m much too beautiful to be in the same sentence as Darth Sidious,” she bragged. “Moreover, I didn’t want it to come to this, but I never technically agreed to terminate your employment. All I told Harvey was that I’d send you out of the building, and I complied with that. Even though we honor the spirit of each other’s words most of the time, I’d say this is an extraordinary circumstance.”

“So you’re going to drag me back to the office in the morning?”

“Hell no. There’s an office-wide drug screening tomorrow, and there’s no way you’d pass. Is this all of it?” she asked, picking up the remaining hash on the table.

“Yeah…hey wait, what are you doing with it?”

“Did you think I’d toke up with you or something, kid? I’m not your bro. Nor am I dumb enough to trust you to flush it yourself, what with the whole telling people your secret _and_ lighting up violations you’ve already accumulated.”

“Wait, I spent eighty bucks on that,” he cried, racing to stop her. She slammed the bathroom door shut before he could make it over in time, though. “Fuck!”

“Eighty bucks, really – did you get this from the coffee cart guy? FYI, you probably discovered it already, but his stuff is…what’s the word you use? Wimpsauce?” she pondered before the sound of rushing water drowned out the rest.

“I needed that to last while I figured out how to pay Grammy’s bills and rent without a fat lawyer’s paycheck.”

“Jesus, I just told you that you didn’t lose your job,” she reiterated, exiting the bathroom with the now-empty Ziplock bag.

“You also said that Harvey was fair enough that he wouldn’t rule against the merits of my arguments.”

“Listen up, because you won’t hear this all that often: I misread the situation,” she admitted, sitting beside him. He froze when she got up and pulled his porn stash out from under the lumpy cushion. “I didn’t know anybody still went for magazines anymore,” she started, flipping through the pages.

“Don’t worry, you won’t need any hand sanitizer. I don’t, y’know…on the pages.”

“Extremely TMI, Mike. I think I’ll need a tetanus booster for even setting foot in this tenement.”

“So, anyway, you were wrong…and then?” he prompted, trying to grab the magazine from her hands and failing miserably.

“Don’t ever say that aloud again. Oh wait, you’re the idiot who can’t keep his fucking trap shut. No, don’t try to argue with that,” she warned, unfolding the pinup of the Latino with a gold PA. “We lost the battle, so we’re going to need to win the war through attrition. Right now all you need to know is that I’m jamming my nails into every single one of Harvey’s pressure points.”

“And as for me?”

“You’re a working-from-home legal consultant until I can get Harvey to say uncle. Same pay,” she informed him, flipping to the personal ads at the back. “Do you think Antoine still charges two-fifty an hour?”

“Sweet. You mean I get to be a badass lawyer in my underwear?”

“I might have you come along to client meetings, so don’t forget how to put a tie on for those. Or shower. Or get a damn haircut sometime soon,” she scolded before continuing to browse through the callboys. “There’s a party at the Harvard Club coming up next week; you’ll be my plus one.”

“I thought you avoided parties.”

“I need to make some appearances to keep up with the legal rumor mill. There’s a room there with my name on it, too, so I might as well get something out of that donation. More importantly, you need to meet your peers to build a better cover. Needless to say, you’re getting a tux.”

“Am I supposed to just keep fifty grand in the bank at all times for when you make ridiculous demands of me?”

“Ugh, you’re a fucking toddler,” she declared, tossing the magazine onto the coffee table. “You should already own a tuxedo. You should also have a decent apartment to host your co-workers so you can build up a rapport with them. Who was the last guest you had here?”

“…It was-”

“Never mind; I should have known it was that guy. Wendy will be by in the morning to drop off the work I can’t send digitally. No more pot,” she exhorted, grabbing his ear again.

“Okay, okay. Christ, I get it: I won’t smoke again.”

“Don’t lean on alcohol, either,” she enjoined, releasing him. “You’re putting on a brave face for me, or maybe it’s just the weed. Regardless, hold yourself together. This will be all over eventually, and then I’ll expect you to be back in top form.”

“Easy for you to say, you can still show your face at the office.”

“No, it’s not easy for me. Because of you I’ve had to double my workload,” she confessed, heading for the door.

“Dude, you totally just admitted that I do as much as you.”

“Call me ‘dude’ when you’re sober and I’ll carve the word into your forehead. Goodnight, rookie. I’ll tell Keith you said hello,” she finished, letting herself out.

“Way harsh,” he accused to the door before returning to his Xbox to resume humiliating teenagers.

\-----

“Honestly, Rene, sometimes I get the sense Jessica thinks we both have some kind of reading disability,” the seamstress declared, rising from her desk to hunt for her cigarettes.

“What are you going on about now, Marie?”

“It’s this e-mail she sent over requesting a tux for Mike Ross. ‘Tight around the butt. Tight around the butt.’ She wrote that five times and punctuated the last sentence with two exclamation points.”

“Hmm? Such strange requests that woman makes. And here I thought the waistcoats and thicker stripes Harvey likes were the oddest creations I’d have to tailor,” the older man thought aloud, struggling for his glasses so that he could take a look for himself.

\-----

Mike was expecting Wendy early in the morning on Friday. He was decidedly not expecting a certain junior partner to make an appearance prior to her visit.

“Louis?! What are you doing here?” he asked, nervously unchaining the door and letting another one of his co-workers into his home. He hadn’t had this many visitors since…well, ever, really.

“What do you think I’m doing, Mike? You left early yesterday and you’re still hanging around your…apartment (he air-quoted the word) in plebe dregs. You might be Jessica’s associate, but you’re still under my supervision. That means you better tell me why you’re not at your cubicle.”

“Jessica told me to work from home. Why aren’t you happier? Your guy beat me in the mock trial,” he mused.

“No he didn’t. Goddamn Harvey found a way to deny me my satisfaction. How am I supposed to be able to gloat over seeing my pony beat you when it was you who won on the facts?”

“Does that matter? The result is whatever the judge says it is.”

“Mike, I won every single moot court I did at Harvard. Even when my opponent was Maxfield Stanton – number two of our class behind me. I was so proud,” he explained, turning his head upwards fondly. “Years after graduating one of the professors who’d judged the match told me that she and the other two on the bench had been watching a Patriots game under the table the whole time. They’d just ruled in my favor because I had the better grades.”

“I repeat my earlier question: does that matter?”

“Of course it matters! It eats me up at night. It eats holes in my weekly hour with Dr. Fibbowitz. It makes me nauseated at holiday parties. What those _smucks_ did to me and what Harvey did to you – it’s a miscarriage of justice. It’s a judicial abortion.”

“Look, Louis, I don’t know what was going through Harvey’s head, but I’ve made my peace with it.” It was a lie, but Mike wasn’t about to have this conversation with the junior partner.

“You shouldn’t have to, Mike. All you need to do is file an official complaint and I’ll fight to have that decision overturned at the next assembly of all the partners. I could even have him censured for this.”

Mike narrowed his eyes at the man as the truth dawned on him.

“Wait, you don’t give a damn about me at all, do you? You just want to use me to get a hook in Harvey,” Mike accused, walking the other man backwards toward the hallway.

“That’s ridiculous, Mike. I’m your boss; I came by to defend your honor.”

“Louis, get out. This isn’t the associates’ pool, and I still have Jessica on speed dial,” he stated, now blocking the doorway.

“Look, Mike, I really think you should consider my offer. When it comes to fairness, I fight for you-”

“Louis,” Wendy called, emerging from the stairwell, “if I beat you back to the office I’ll ring Donna and tell her about this for when she returns.”

The junior partner panicked, flying past the assistant and toward the stairs beyond her.

“Leave it to my boss’ associate to make me carry a stack of discovery to him in his walk-up. I probably just sweat my roots out. Mike, you owe me free coffee for a week,” she proclaimed, dumping said documents into his arms.

“Gee, thanks for asking me how I’m holding up, boss lady,” he joked.

“You little shit,” she consoled affectionately, patting his head. “I’m not going to let anyone replace you. You’re the second lawyer to work for Jessica directly who didn’t hold his degree over my head.”

There was an awkward pause as they both realized who the unnamed predecessor was.

“Anyway, have those finished by Monday. Keith will come around first thing in the morning to take you to a client meeting and then you’ll have your fitting with Rene that afternoon.”

\-----

Harvey trod toward his office carefully on Friday, nursing a wretched hangover. Ray had been sullen in the drive from his apartment and the Yankees had lost their game the prior evening. He though things couldn’t possibly have gone any worse than they had already, but he was sorely, sorely wrong.

Waiting outside his office were all the candidates auditioning to be his temporary assistant. It seemed Jessica wanted a fight, because each and every single one of them was blond, pale, lanky, and sickeningly upbeat.

“Coffee, sir?” one particularly keen man asked hopefully.

“You’re out of the running already,” he replied, ignoring the rest as he pushed his door open and walked to his desk. “You,” he started, gesturing to another one while he sat down, “what’s your name?”

“Michael, Mr. Specter. But you can call me Mike if you’d prefer.”

“I’d rather you hadn’t added that last bit. You wouldn’t happen to all be named Mike, would you?” he asked, already dreading the responses. The crowd of men turned to one another and mumbled questions back and forth. Eventually the majority of them began to make gestures in the affirmative.

“Everyone who just nodded can leave right now,” he ordered, “and I better not see you on this floor for the rest of this fiscal quarter. Who’s left?”

Two men nervously raised their hands as the others walked off in the direction of HR. He’d probably be forced to attend another workplace discrimination seminar in the near future. At that realization his head throbbed violently.

“You, on the left. Get me an aspirin and that coffee and don’t say anything to me. And you’re on deck to replace him if he fucks up,” he motioned at the other one.

“Are you going to give me some money for that, Mr. Specter?” the first one piped in.

“You know what, forget it. Both of you are out, too. Everything I said to the other guys goes for you. Scram!”

The phone began ringing at Donna’s unoccupied desk. Harvey picked up the receiver next to him and dazedly struggled to figure out how to switch the call to his office. He still couldn’t manage the feat when the second call had come and gone, so he abandoned the idea and pulled out his cell phone.

“Jessica, if you pull another gag like the one you tried just now I might actually consider ways to get out of my non-compete early.”

_“But we both know that you’d never leave me. Also, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Furthermore, you can walk to my office if you’d like to have a conversation, in case you forgot.”_

“Don’t feign ignorance; it’s not a good look on you…which is saying something, because I’ve seen you pull off canary yellow,” he meandered, recalling that particular dress. “Unless we switched to the Reichsbrigade to serve as our temp agency, you purposely picked out the most Mike-like candidates you could find. And picking guys who are actually named Mike – how far did you make them scrounge for them?”

_“I’m a managing partner without an associate, thanks to you. I don't have time to pick out temps.”_

“If the next batch of candidates in any way matches the ethnic and gender makeup of New York, I’ll believe you. If not, I’ll drag out the next senior partner meeting by asking Roger about his class-action. You know how he can drone on and on when he thinks other people are interested in his strategies.”

_“I’m hanging up now, Harvey.”_

“Good morning, Mr. Specter. I have the brief for Hertzoff,” his associate opened as he stepped inside the office. He looked slightly worse for wear as well, probably from partying after his victory over Devon yesterday.

“Morning, Harold. Do you know how to work the phones?” he asked as his associate took the seat in front of him. “I need to take the calls that go to Donna’s desk.”

“Uh, we could ask another one of the other assistants. Want me to go get Norma?”

“What? Good Lord, no. Maybe we should just redirect people to call you instead. Would you send out a mass email to my clients to have them do that?”

“Only Donna has the master list. Mr. Specter, you should really get her back here as soon as possible,” the curly-haired man suggested. “I have a bad feeling about how things will go if she’s not around.”

“Harold, you’re worrying for no reason. We’ll function fine as a duo, and Donna will come to her senses long before anything bad happens here.”

The phone on Donna’s desk began ringing again as he finished trying to convince his associate. It definitely wasn’t an omen.

Probably.

\-----

“My word, the little runt actually managed to get here on time.”

“I wouldn’t want to keep the dungeon master waiting. See, that’s funny because the bank called to ask if I’d paid a ransom after I’d charged the last bill here. C’mon, Rene, up top,” Mike requested, thrusting his hand up into the air.

“The cheekier you are with me the longer I’ll keep you trying on clothes,” he threatened, pulling away from the proffered limb. “At least, that’s what I’d like to say. Unfortunately, I got the text from Donna saying that I’d need to end my torture session in time for her to have her fun with you.”

Mike shivered. He didn’t know exactly what was in store later, but given how indebted to the woman he was now, it probably comprised rearranging her furniture or entertaining a family member. That reminded him: he’d meant to ask her if she had any nieces or nephews.

“But I thought you had already done the provisional tailoring and just needed me for a fitting to fine tune it,” Mike uttered hopefully.

“It’s never too early to start discussing your autumnal lineup. And then there’s the matter of phasing in some new neckties.”

Mike groaned loudly. “I’m never going to get in and out of this place in under an hour, am I?”

“Our little boy is growing up, Marie, and so fast. He learned to be punctual and patient all in one day.”

“Oh? Big Mick’s here then?” Marie asked, peeking her head out of the back room. Mike’s face continued to redden as he followed the older man to the fitting room.

“Saying that, we’d better get started,” Rene opened, wheeling over a cart. The first few items were dress shirts that Mike had picked out earlier but Rene had deemed ‘too advanced’ for his station.

 _“Let’s stick to blue and white for now, junior. I need to know that I can trust you before giving you enough color to induce headaches if mixed and matched inappropriately. You think Jessica is tough on a good day?- just wait until you’ve faced her when she has a migraine,”_ he’d cautioned at the time.

Behind the sage, lavender, and soft pink shirts, though, hung a luxurious-looking jet black tuxedo. It had a slight sheen that caught the dim glow of the workroom quite nicely. Under the chandelier in a fancy ballroom, its wearer would probably look like a million bucks. Which was probably how much Rene would demand in compensation; Mike could feel his checking account throbbing in agony already.

“Alright, junior. Hurry up and get in the tux; Jessica said the Harvard Club get-together is Wednesday night and that’s only two days away. I hope you didn’t wear loose underwear,” he remarked cryptically before disappearing behind a pile of scraps.

Mike carried the immaculate thing over and hung it on the hook in the little room, shutting the door behind him. He shucked off his clothes until he was down to his boxers. Taking the earlier comment for a joke, he left them where they were and pulled the dress shirt on, buttoning it up. The sleeves were a tad bit long, but it wasn’t anything they couldn’t fix.

Getting the trousers on, however, was a life-and-death struggle. He had them nearly over his butt when he realized that boxers would have to go. Unfortunately, Mike had always had the problem of getting hard when he went commando, so even when his underwear had joined his jeans and t-shirt, it took a while. Eventually, though, he willed himself back down and managed to button the fly up around the tails of the shirt.

He took a good look at himself in the mirror for the first time since entering the room. In the front it was plain as day that he was pulling a Kramer, but the back was the real issue. Honestly, there would have been more left to the imagination if he were stark naked. Every contour caught the light and the dimples of his ass looked like lunar craters. There was no way on Earth he would ever set foot outside in this thing.

“Are you almost done, runt?” Marie asked from the door.

“Uhhh, is it alright if I just tell you the things that need alterations?”

“The point of getting you in here is so that we can measure and assess the outfit in relation to your body. Hustle your butt out here so I can do my job,” she replied.

‘Hustle’ was probably the worst word she could have used.

“The sleeves of the shirt are a little long,” he instructed as he exited the changing room, hoping to focus her eyes upward.

“You rub your dick on it, you buy it,” she notified, rolling her eyes as she gave him a once over. “Although the last time you were here you wore briefs.”

“Y’know, saying things like that could qualify as sexual harassment,” Mike muttered, blood rushing right back to his face.

“Pearson Hardman is our counsel. Good luck with that case, blondie,” she crowed, pushing his arms down straight so she could check the jacket and shirt underneath. “The sleeves aren’t long. Didn’t you notice the lack of buttons?”

“I thought you’d sew them on later.”

“Oh, Lord,” she groused, shaking her head. “Rene, he’s not ready for junior high quite yet. Runt, those holes are for your cufflinks. You do have cufflinks, right?”

Mike shook his head dumbly.

“Marie, don’t be too hard on him,” the tailor countered, walking back into view. “A boy’s first time picking out cufflinks is a magical moment, although it generally happens when he’s sixteen or seventeen.”

Burn.

“First things first, Rene. Mike, turn around.”

Mike sighed and slowly revolved to face the door of the room he’d left. A wolf whistle punctuated the moment when he stopped moving.

“Hey, that’s definitely sexual harassment!”

“If you wear this tux for a whole night it won’t just be harassment,” the woman pledged, checking the hems of the legs. “We’ll need to reinforce the crease, Rene.”

“So noted. Alright, Mike, you can change back into your jeans while we check the shirts and then we’ll head off to go pick out cufflinks. Am I going to need to teach you how to navigate a bowtie?”

“Oui oui,” he answered with a nod before retreating to the changing room to get out of the magnetic sex pants.

\-----

Donna was waiting for Mike when he left Rene’s shop, a pair of yoga mats hanging from a shoulder and a large changing bag in her opposite hand.

“Hey, kiddo. Are you up for a fun late afternoon filled with stretching and bitchy girl talk?”

“Yoga? You want me to go to yoga with you?”

“No, Mike, I’m going to use these to roll up a body before we dump it in the Hudson,” she mocked, motioning to the mats.

“It wouldn’t happen to be Harvey’s body, would it?”

Donna chuckled for a moment before assuming a stern face. “Mike, that was your one moment to joke about killing Harvey, so I hope you enjoyed it. He’s still my boss, and I won’t allow any more morose talk. Don’t fall behind,” she ordered, beginning a quick trot uptown.

“So you’ve gotten over what he did?” he asked.

“Not completely. I don’t suppose you have?”

“Honestly? No. No, I haven’t. And I’m not sure I could, even if he okayed me coming back to work.”

“That’s understandable, Mike. He hurt you, and not just professionally. Still, and I’m not in any way condoning what he did, you have to admit that your confession was a bit of a whopper.”

“I don’t think we should be talking about it on the street,” he cautioned, carefully checking to make sure he couldn’t recognize any lawyers.

“Oh please. It’s 4:30 – the only lawyers outside are unemployed or trying to figure out how to get to the courthouse as fast as possible. Remember how flushed Kyle was when Louis had him run that motion down?”

“So that’s your plan? Distract me from everything that happened?”

“Mike, Wendy sent me a picture of your building. If you’re saying you’d rather spend your time there than with me, then you’ve cut me deeper than any other man,” she lamented dramatically. “But I also invited you along to give you and Rachel a chance to talk. You know how she refuses to leave Manhattan.”

Mike swallowed hard. He hadn’t seen the paralegal in the flesh since the trial and he couldn’t tell if she was really pissed or joking in their text conversations.

“Anyway, I’d give Harvey until the end of the week, tops. To be honest, I’m amazed he’s lasted this long…and simultaneously dreading the size of the backlog I’ll have to work through when he begs me to return.”

“That’s good. Not the backlog part, I mean,” he backtracked, shuddering at her cutting side-eye. “I just hope I can go back to the office sometime soon, too. Client meetings with Jessica are good experience, but she dropped me off at the subway station at 53rd & Lex afterwards. It made me feel like a kid at the kiss and ride.”

“Mike, you are pretty twinkish.”

“Please don’t say that. I hate that word.”

“Never bleed your hand, Mike, not even to your friends. Oh look, we’ve arrived,” she announced, denying any comeback.

“There you two are! Do you have any idea how hard it is for a paralegal to leave early? I had to tell Louis that I had a yeast infection before he let me head out,” Rachel greeted them once they’d walked into the studio.

“Well, ‘hello’ to you, too, Rachel,” Mike replied. Rachel rolled her eyes but went in for a hug. Unable to resist, he made a show of keeping his crotch as far apart from hers as he could while they embraced. “I don’t want to catch it,” he teased, earning a familiar slap to the back of his head.

“You’re such a dork, Mike,” she chided, though the insult gave way to an enormous smile. “Work just isn’t the same without you popping by my office to bother me or beg for my assistance.”

“You mean that in a good way, right?”

The two women exchanged glances and Donna began removing items from her bag. Halfway through the process she shoved a pair of pants into his hands.

“What’s this?” he asked, feeling the flexible material.

“Did you think they’d let you do yoga in your jeans? Hurry up and change.”

“The men’s locker rooms are over there,” Rachel directed, “but they might be caked in dust for all we know. There are never any guys in our regular class.”

Ten minutes later Mike was once again trapped in tight, revealing fabric. Rachel and Donna forced him to do a spin for them, not even keeping their lurid comments to themselves. Had he not been cooped up in his apartment the past week (excepting several vigorous sessions at the velodrome), he would have abandoned them. As it was, he muddled through.

“Alright ladies, are you ready for an asskicking?” the (extremely) butch instructor shouted, taking her position at the front of the hall.

“Yes, ma’am,” they replied.

“I see a boy’s decided to join us. What say you ladies, should I go easy on the little Y chromosome?”

“Hell, no!” the crowd of women answered, Donna’s voice especially prominent among them. He turned back and narrowed his eyes at her as she smirked.

“So Rachel, about the cross-examination,” Mike began when other groups broke out into smaller conversations.

“Don’t worry about it, Mike. I just wasn’t expecting that particular tone of interrogation. Usually men are either too forceful or too hesitant, so your cloud-cuckoolander strategy paid dividends.”

“You’re not upset that I got you to confess?” he checked as he leaned into the standing forward bend the instructor was demonstrating, taking the opportunity to look her in the eyes.

“I’m a little pissed,” she admitted, struggling to assume the position herself. “But I’ll get it out of my system. Although, if you help me study for my LSATs when you’re free for lunch, that might expedite the process.”

“Do I get priority over Kyle’s cases if I do?”

“Mike, you get priority over almost everyone. Harold’s the only one who goes ahead of you, and that’s only because I value my friendship with this lady,” she informed him, motioning to the redhead beside her.

“I am not a mere lady – I…am a goddess,” Donna announced, her head so low that the band holding her ponytail in place touched the mat.

The rest of the ninety-minute workout elapsed in amiable chitchat. The only breaks occurred when the instructor (Jill) ordered the group into downward-facing dog and Mike suddenly discovered all the women had migrated behind him, and then when Jill decided to see exactly how far his legs would go, pulling them back with her massive biceps as he lay supine.

He might have felt damn sexy had he not been too busy blushing with his eyes firmly shut.

\-----

Harvey was on the verge of carpel tunnel.

The senior partner only realized exactly how many times his assistant signed for him on a daily basis when she was gone. Every half hour Cameron dumped another massive heap of forms on his desk, collecting the previous pile on his way out. It’d gotten so bad that he’d resorted to using an ice pack on his wrist, but he had to hide the humiliating thing every time Louis stopped by the corner office.

And then there was the broader issue of Cameron. Desperation, or maybe Wendy’s threat to ‘pick a temp or else…’, caused him to settle on the young man. He was capable, sure, but Harvey needed someone perfect (and ideally someone who didn’t share a name with his ex-boss at the DA’s office).

“Cameron,” he called once he’d switched the intercom back on, “where’s the thing?”

“To what are you referring, Mr. Specter?”

“The thing. That I need. For my hearing tomorrow,” he answered.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re describing.”

“Cameron, you need to be able to anticipate my needs. Where is the other thing?”

“Mr. Specter, it’s my third day. Please give me a little time to catch up with your thought processes,” the temp requested, turning to face Harvey through the glass.

That was the other thing about Cameron. He obviously wanted to get in bed with the senior partner, which made the latter man intensely uncomfortable. First of all, he’d just fooled around with someone else from the firm, and look at how that turned out. Secondly, though, the temp was terribly direct. There was no subtle flirting or witty, movie quote-based, innuendo-ridden banter.

It made Harvey miss Mike a little…but that was probably just from being stuck in his office all day, buried under mounds of tedious paperwork. Harold was struggling to tread water, too, and Jessica clearly didn’t want to speak with him voluntarily. If his brother hadn’t rung him the prior night he might have really gone insane from isolation.

Yeah, that was the ticket. He just needed to take a non-model out on a date or something. What was he thinking – why on Earth would he miss Mike?

“Mr. Specter, the Harvard Club Spring Reception is tomorrow night. Would you like me to decline the invitation?” the temp asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Huh?” he stumbled. Harvey swore off drinking alone at home after Friday’s hangover, so he could use the party to give him a chance to get disinhibited in a controlled environment. And hopefully laid, too, as his recent sexual encounters had all gone awry. “Oh, no, I think I’ll be attending, actually. Would you send off an RSVP for me – stag?”

“Well, it’s just that I’m looking at Ms. Paulsen’s note on your calendar and she wrote that you ‘never, not even on pain of death’, go to them. Are you sure?”

“Cameron, when I tell you to do something, do it.”

“Okay, Mr. Specter,” he caved. “I’d like to make a small request,” the man started with a forced laugh. “May I reorganize and color-code these folders? There doesn’t seem to be any system to it at all.”

“No. You are forbidden from doing anything of the sort.”

That was the last thing about Cameron – the rainbow-colored post-it notes stuck to every other piece of paper made the senior partner’s office look like a meeting room for a pride parade planning committee. He hoped to set them all alight in his garbage can when Donna came back. Which couldn’t happen soon enough.

“Cameron, I’m still waiting on the thing.”

\-----

“I’ll have a PBR.”

“What?” the bartender asked, utterly incredulous. “We don’t serve Pabst Blue Ribbon here, buddy. This is the Harvard Club, not the homeless shelter.”

Other people sitting or standing in earshot turned to look at Mike, probably checking to make sure that he wasn’t an interloper. Somehow the slip-up brought him more attention than his tux, and once again he found that passing for a real lawyer was strangely harder outside of the office.

“No, I meant…Pilsner…Bitburger Refined,” he clarified, hoping what he’d just said would suffice. The other lawyers seemed to relax and returned to their conversations.

“I’m afraid we don’t have that either, sir,” the guy apologized, throwing his arm behind his head in embarrassment. “We do have a Brooklyn Pilsner, though.”

“They let anything from Brooklyn in here?” Mike asked with a grin.

“Hey, they let me in here,” the man countered.

“Keep it between us,” the blond apprised as he leaned in, “but I’m a Brooklynite, too.” The bartender feigned a gasp before opening a bottle of Brooklyn Brewery’s finest and handing it to him.

“Mike, you’re not going to get drunk, are you?” Jessica asked, requesting a glass of pino grigio.

“No, Jessica.”

“Good. There’s no telling what might slip out if you did,” she counseled carefully. “I hear the other tykes are upstairs. Why don’t you go play in the sandbox?”

“Your wish is my command.”

“For the amount I’m paying you it had better be.”

Sure enough, the next floor was noticeably younger and livelier. There were crowds of guys who looked like they had just moved out of the frat house and chicks whose dresses barely reached quarter-thigh. Mike was still deciding which would make for less mind-numbing conversation when he heard someone call out his name.

“Mike, Mike,” Harold cried happily, waving at him. Mike smiled and made his way over to his co-worker. “Where have you been Mike?”

“Working from home. Jessica is still pissed that I lost my mock trial,” he lied, clinking their bottles together.

“Jeez. Still?”

“Yeah. I heard you won yours, though.”

“Harvey probably would have shipped me to the Gobi Desert if I had lost. Hey, about how he ruled-”

“Don’t worry about it, Harold.”

“Are you sure, Mike?”

“Yes. This night is supposed to be about networking, not griping, right?”

“Yeah, but the partners all dumped us in here while they’re cutting the big deals. By the way, your tux…doesn’t look like something you’d normally wear.”

“It’s a long story, Harold.”

“We’ve got time, and it’s not like there’s anyone else I really want to speak to, anyway. I wish the paralegals were invited.”

“Amen,” Mike chimed, clinking their bottles again. “So, you know Rene, right?”

“He’s Harvey’s tailor. Harvey said I’d be meeting him in the near future.”

“Yeah, there’s this nutty seamstress who works with him. She’s a lawsuit just waiting to blow up in Rene’s face-”

“A lawsuit Harvey and I would probably have to fight,” the curly-haired man added.

“Right. Well, I think she’s the one who went about adjusting this tux. She obviously has a thing for humiliating the customers by forcing them into tight-fitting suits and then fine-tuning them, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah…wait, no. What do you mean?”

“Harold, come on. You’ve never had a tailor get a little too into his or her work? Haven’t you ever watched _Friends_?”

“I’m still not following, Mike.”

“Does Harvey-”

“Does Harvey what, Mike?” Harold asked, turning away from the legs of the female associates.

“Harold, is Harvey here tonight?” Mike asked, his body growing tight with anxiety.

“Yeah. He’s downstairs somewhere. I bet he’s settling this obnoxious case we got in yesterday,” the other man guessed. “Wait, he just walked into the room.”

Mike didn’t want to turn around, but his body revolved like it had a will of its own. When he’d completed the about-face, he saw that Harvey Specter was staring directly at him from across the room, barely clutching an empty champagne glass as though he might drop it. A smiling, youngish blonde eased into her coat beside him. Neither man moved, or even blinked for that matter, for a good ten seconds. It was alluring and terrifying and almost painful.

“Harold, I just realized I forgot to finish something for Jessica. I gotta go,” he sputtered when he regained his voice. Without even looking at the other associate, he floored it through the crowd of women and toward the other set of stairs at the back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egad, the hit counter, it’s OVER NINE THOUSAND! Seriously, though, thank you guys so much for continuing to read and comment on this story!
> 
> I know this chapter probably isn’t what everyone was expecting/wanting, but I couldn’t bear to drown the story with a whole lot of Mike wallowing alone at home – it’s just not my style. On the plus side, I think the next week might have another bonus chapter. And yeah, in case you caught that, I totally stole the name Maxfield Stanton from the English dub of Sailor Moon. In my defense, it sounds extremely white shoe law firmy.
> 
> ICYC: The track that played in my head while I wrote about Mike rocking his tux and yoga pants was Lee Hyori’s “U-Go-Girl”. Check out the video on YouTube; even if you don’t speak Korean, you’ll still get a kick out of it.


	10. Back to Work

“Harvey, I haven’t seen you like this in quite a while. Why, you almost seem flustered,” Jessica quipped, enjoying the sight of her somewhat winded number two.

“Jessica, cut the crap. Why was Mike Ross here and where did he go?” he asked, jerking his head about frantically.

“Harvey, I’m free to invite whomever I wish to accompany me to parties here. I thought Mike might need an excuse to get out on a Wednesday night, so I brought him along as a guest. Are you going to tell me how to run my private life now, too?”

“As a guest? In one of Rene’s tuxes?”

“I didn’t happen to notice what he was wearing,” she assured, barely restraining her internal grin. “Why, was it somehow noteworthy?”

“You mean beside the fact that an unemployed person could afford something like that?” he hinted, finally settling into eye contact.

“Mike is highly enterprising. Surely you’ve realized that by now, haven’t you?” she deflected, raising her glass in the direction of a former classmate turned current federal judge.

“Your actions have taught me more about you than him.”

“What are you even doing here, Harvey?- I thought you despised these networking opportunities. Are you compensating for the fact that you’ve lost your secretary?”

“Oh no you don’t,” the senior partner upbraided, further trespassing on her personal space so that he could lower his voice menacingly. “Jessica, you’re not the Cheshire cat. Tell me which way he went and stop answering questions with questions.”

“I haven’t seen him since we arrived. Speaking of which, there are other people I need to greet, so I’m afraid we’ll have to put off this inquest until tomorrow. Goodnight, Harvey,” she smirked openly, abandoning the brunet and heading off to say hello to Robert Zane. (If she accidentally spilled tartar sauce on his ridiculous Tom Wolfe-esqe white suit in the process, well, that would just be too bad.)

“Jessica Pearson, what a pleasant surprise,” the named partner hailed out, taking her hand and kissing it. She immediately began thinking of ways to subtly retrieve the hand sanitizer from her clutch.

“Robert Zane. How are you faring? I read about your firm’s loss to Rosendunn on the anti-trust case.”

“A minor setback, caused entirely by our client’s unwillingness to be forthright with us.”

“I hope you’ll think of better recoveries before the ABA awards ceremony. We both know how they love to roast the dunces before they laud the geniuses.”

“I don’t seem to recall you ever being on the receiving end of that punishment,” the man ruminated, his pupils traveling to the corner of his eyes as he thought. “Rest assured, you will have that pleasure eventually.”

“Oh no. We’ve been too busy kicking the Brits back across the Pond to have any fiascos with our fellow Americans. Did you hear about how Harvey cut Darby’s expected quarterly profits by two percent with a single win? It was sheer brilliance.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Remember where you are, Zane,” she mocked. “Use the word ‘debate’ in a crowd of lawyers and you’ll end up arguing with every hotshot associate in the play pen upstairs.”

“I did hear that you took on a mentee associate recently. I’d ask if you were feeling charitable, but I know you too well, Jessica. What’s wrong – was the empty nest getting a little too lonely?”

“There’s no such thing as an empty nest for founding partners. That’s the dirty secret of making it to the top: once there’s no one above you, you’re the one stuck changing associate diapers,” she observed. “That and keeping the other partners from suing each other over who used whose pens without permission.”

The man broke out into a chortle and clinked his glass against hers.

“You’ve still got your wit,” he grinned. “As thanks for continuing to take good care of my daughter I’ll give you a little heads-up: we’ve signed Dirastacco’s as a client. I know you did some pro bono for one of their detractors recently-”

“What of it?”

“If she calls you and offers you some paid work going after them on some trumped-up racism charge, just hang up.”

“How considerate of you, Robert.”

“Look at that; I always knew you could be a lady if you tried, Jessica. Hell, if I hadn’t married Barbara I might have tried to tame you. We might be co-founders of our own firm right now…of course I’d be in charge.”

Jessica raised her glass one final time and left for the hallway – she needed to find a receptacle for the vomit rising up her esophagus.

\-----

From: Jessica (215-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 11:43 PM

_Be outside your building at 7:30 AM sharp tomorrow. We’re meeting with a client I decided to take on tonight._

\-----

“Good morning, Mr. Specter. Here’s your coffee. I’ve logged your calls, and the first batch of documents that need your signature are on your desk.”

The senior partner grunted a response, taking the extended paper cup and heading into his office. The stack of papers (with the accompanying rainbow Post-Its) shook him back to life, reminding him of how little sleep he’d managed the prior evening.

When he’d gotten home, all he could think about was Mike Ross. The man spun around again and again on a loop in his brain; it was hypnotic, as though the former associate was dancing for him in a private show in that impossibly tight tuxedo. His barely clad ass taunted him as it swayed around and around.

Around and around and around.

“Mr. Specter?”

“-Huh? Is something the matter, Cameron?” he asked, looking up from behind the wall of paper on his desk. The temp was standing before him with a worried expression on his tanned face.

“I was just about to ask you the same question. Aspirin?”

“No. Go get Harold.”

“Of course, Mr. Specter,” the blond responded, hurrying off in the direction of the associate pool.

Harvey tried to regain some self-control. He’d jacked himself off twice before he’d finished getting ready for bed and then a third time when he’d woken up with the worst case of morning wood he’d had since high school. As things stood now, however, he’d need to make a trip to the men’s room before lunch.

“Norma in a bathing suit. Norma…in…a…bathing suit,” he repeated to himself, opening his email and cursing the fact that he didn’t have Donna to sort through it the way he liked.

“Mr. Specter? Cameron said you wanted to see me,” Harold asked when he’d arrived a few minutes later.

“Harold, good. Where are we with Ms. McAfee’s deal?”

“I gave you the finalized contract proposal last night. Don’t you re-”

“Just testing you, rookie. Did you get the final okay from the analysts with the company?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then we can meet with her this morning.”

“We? You’re letting me go to client meetings again?” Harvey could have sworn his associate’s smile stretched from one ear to the other.

“Not if you’re going to gush like a teenage girl. Ray’s waiting for us.”

“What about the pro bono clients? Have you figured out a way for us to get them a settlement after what happened?”

“Harold, they’re pro bono clients who couldn’t behave; they’re not worth the effort. Go wait for me at the front of the building.”

“I thought we were heading down together?”

“I need to make a stop in the men’s room first. And don’t bother Ray with whatever Swedish Europop it is you’re listening to now.”

Even the idea of Norma in a bathing suit couldn’t keep that ridiculously pert ass out of his head. Harvey barreled his way past Cameron’s distraught reminders to sign the documents before they were needed at the courthouse and to the last stall in the restroom. His dick was out of his pants before he’d even locked the door behind him.

\-----

Mike rushed about his apartment, toothbrush still in his mouth as he fixed the knot of his tie. He hadn’t gotten more than a wink of sleep, so nervous was he about what Harvey might do after having spotted him at the party. Thankfully, he’d managed to dodge him on the way out, sprinting down the stairs in a manner not unlike the day he met Jessica.

Therein lied the problem. Mike had no idea if Harvey had run across Jessica, and he hoped that the senior partner hadn’t brought up his presence with the managing partner. The blond knew he was running out of time before the woman finally strung him by the noose around his neck. Not even the fact that his attendance was her idea would save him, he guessed.

Mike checked his phone on his way out of the entrance of the building, noticing he had about two minutes. Well, he wouldn’t be late, at least. He took the opportunity to check his appearance and promptly cursed himself for accidentally wearing different-colored socks. He turned to face the structure behind him and calculated how long he’d need to change them.

Too long, and maybe Jessica wouldn’t notice. Fuck, who was he kidding?

At that moment he heard the towncar pull up on the street. He jogged for the door on the street side when the rear window nearest him rolled down and his boss came into view. He halted at the sight of the woman.

Jessica Pearson was looking decidedly _downtown_. She’d replaced the heavy jewelry and cashmere with a demure cream blouse over loose black slacks, and in place of the killer heels was a pair of simple blue flats. More jarring was the black messenger bag stuffed with folders; it wasn’t so different from Mike’s own satchel.

“Did Switzerland have a bank run?”

“Good morning to you, too, Mike. Get in.”

“Huh?” Mike uttered dumbly, still trying to confirm that this woman wasn’t in fact an imposter.

“We’re headed up to the Bronx. Do you think I’d wear my Manolo Blahniks and pearls there?”

“Can’t you pretty much do whatever you want? Wait, does this mean I can ditch my jacket and tie?”

“Yes, I can. No, you can’t. Stop jabbering and get in.”

“But that hardly seems fair,” he commented as he rounded the car and opened the door on the opposite side.

“Would you rather have me leave you here to sort through three thousand pages of Breckerman’s prospective divorce settlement?”

“I’m groveling, I’m groveling. Please don’t make me do divorce work.”

“Your socks don’t match,” his boss judged, her look of satisfaction fading into disappointment. “But at least you were smart enough to get a haircut before the party last night.”

“It makes him look sharp until you get to his boyish face,” Keith laughed from the driver’s seat.

“You’re not allowed to tag team me like that, Keith. I thought we were on the same side, bro,” Mike lamented, buckling in his seatbelt as the man in question guided the car away from the curb. “Wait, is this Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong?”

“Boss’ choice, _bro_ ,” Keith affirmed, flashing his eyes toward the woman through the rear-view mirror.

“You’ve got something against Ella, Mike?”

“Uhh…no. I mean, I just – I figured you for more of a Vivaldi or Tchaikovsky fan.”

“Are you calling me an Oreo, rookie?”

“No. No, no, no. I definitely did not mean to suggest that you-”

Keith erupted into a fit of unrestrained laughter.

“Shut up and read this,” she ordered, tossing a statement of facts onto Mike’s lap. “Memorize it by the time we reach the client’s office.”

“Isn’t this the same woman from the pro bono that Louis was bragging about pwning a few weeks ago? What are we doing for her now?”

“You’d figure that out if you just read what I gave you instead of asking stupid questions,” Jessica criticized with a smug face. She ignored the petulant look he shot her while she keyed in the passcode for her phone. “And you should note that she’s now a paying client. Remind me to pull this on Harvey when complains about me giving him another gratis case.”

“Is that why we do pro bonos? We just want them to come back with cash in hand?”

“I have other reasons, which, I might remind you,” she lectured with a forced air of sternness, “are entirely my own and not subject to questioning. But yes, money is always nice. It pays your salary and Keith’s, Wendy’s, and everyone else’s with the firm,” she listed, ticking fingers as she recited names.

“I definitely don’t mind the money, Mike,” Keith chimed in once she’d finished speaking. “Next song, Jessica?”

“ _These Foolish Things_ ,” she selected, turning to face the blond.

“Good choice,” he agreed, reaching over to the console to comply with the request.

“Jessica, about last night-”

“Are you referring to Harvey spotting you at the Harvard Club?”

“Look, I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble. I’m sorry for letting you down again.”

“Mike, that man is always giving me too much trouble; of course he’d actually attend one of those things on the night we went,” she explained as she flicked through emails. “Nevertheless, I took care of it. Instead of letting me down a third time by not focusing on the case at hand, why don’t you stop blabbering and start reading?”

The rest of the car ride elapsed to the soft din of Fitzgerald’s gentle voice. The quiet streets of Sunnyside gave way to bustling Astoria and then the gateway that was the Triborough Bridge. When Mike had finished reading the facts of the impending lawsuit he looked up again to see dirty bricks and peeling paint.

Keith finally stopped the car in front of a nondescript building just off one of the smaller parks. Jessica got out and Mike hurried to keep up – her stride was even longer in the sensible footwear.

“You must be Jessica Pearson. I must say you’re a much nicer sight than that Litt fellow who helped us out earlier,” a large African-American woman greeted from a doorway.

“A cat that catches mice is good whether it’s mangy or healthy,” Mike’s boss replied, shaking the outstretched hand.

“And who is this little guy?” the woman asked, looking over at him. “I didn’t know you had an internship program with the local high school.”

Mike narrowed his eyes but shook the woman’s hand as well.

“That’s my associate, Mike. He might act like an adolescent from time to time, but he shouldn’t screw anything up too badly.”

“Well then, Mike, it’s nice to meet you. I don’t know how much information Jessica’s given you, but my name’s Leyla Johnston. Let’s head inside,” she offered. “Your driver?”

“He’ll head over to the Heights to get some breakfast. No use forcing him to wait around outside here, especially since we have so much to discuss.”

“Good call,” the woman stated with a nod. “This area is a lot safer than it was, but we still don’t get a lot of guys in suits around here. Of course, if some new grocery chains moved in maybe that wouldn’t be an issue.”

“And that’s why we’re here today,” Jessica explained, stepping into the building as Mike held the door for her.

\-----

_“Wendyyyyyyyyyyyy-”_

“Donna, stop bothering me at work.”

_“Please, I know Jessica and Mike are out with a client.”_

“How the hell do you know what’s on their schedule?” the assistant asked, typing another name into the seating arrangement diagram for the firm’s summer associate party. “Wait, if you know that then you know how much I have to get done before she gets back.”

_“Psh. More work for the associate shindig? That ain’t nuthin’ but a G thang for us secretaries.”_

“Donna, that song came out like twenty years ago. Seriously, nobody uses that to describe anything anymore.”

_“Wrong: I just did. How are things at the office?”_

A smile spread across Wendy’s face. Donna so rarely flashed her cards like that.

“You’re desperate to come back, aren’t you?”

_“You have no idea how dull it gets at home. There’s only so much yoga I can do. And I’ve burned through my DVR and my Netflix queue.”_

“Cameron has already marked his ownership of your desk. I swear, I found one of his Post-its over on our side of the building this morning. They’re multiplying-”

_“I’m going to put superglue on the chair of whomever he fills in for next – make him ruin his suit.”_

“He’s been making googly eyes at your boss, too. That’s what Rachel told me after she had to drop off something for Harold while he was with Harvey,” Wendy added, wondering just how crazy she could drive her colleague.

_“Wendy, I’m supposed to be the one torturing you…How is Harvey faring?”_

“I think the tux worked. I’d figure out for certain, but putting cameras in the men’s room would get me five years in prison.”

_“It wouldn’t stop me.”_

“Ladies and gentlemen, the perks of being White and ravishing. The police officer who took you into the station would probably propose on the way. Now stop being a Bugaboo…how’s that for an outdated reference?” she concluded, pressing the button to disconnect.

The calls kept coming for another fifteen minutes after that before they ceased. Wendy knew how much Donna missed Harvey and all the juicy gossip, but she wasn’t about to miss a deadline, either.

\-----

“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d even take this case, Jessica. I know your cut of whatever we get won’t amount to much compared to your other clients,” Leyla confessed.

The conversation had moved well past the tour and pleasantries stage and Mike guessed they’d been there for a good forty-five minutes, minimum. He and the other two sat around a metal folding table in an uninspiring break room on the second floor. The interior of the building reminded him of his apartment, and not in a good way.

“I think in the long run. If I only care about how much money I can make today and let whole swaths of the city rot, then there will be less business to bring in next month or a year from now.”

“I wish more people had that epiphany. First it was the developers who kept renovating the same five damn luxury townhouses on the Upper West Side or down in TriBeCa instead of building new housing for eager customers up here. Then, just when it seemed like things were going our way, it was those dumbass bankers who blew up the economy playing with other people’s money,” the other woman deplored, shaking her head.

“But that’s not why you hired us, though,” Mike began, momentarily ignoring Jessica’s annoyance with his unprompted verbalization. “We’re here to represent African-American women who’ve been denied promotions based on their race.”

“That’s right, Mike,” the client nodded. “But the two issues are intertwined. The most common grievance presented to the women in our organization is that their commutes are too long for them to be trusted with managerial positions.”

“They dress it up well, but it’s still the same old bullshit,” Jessica added.

“Exactly. The reason their commutes are too far and the White employees get the promotions is that there are no grocery stores in the South Bronx. Which means that instead of being able to walk to work, these women have to buy monthly subway cards, and that leaves them exhausted and broke. And that in turn is the justification for why stores aren’t built: there’s not enough disposable income in the area.”

“That’s a good theory, but we’ll need concrete evidence to be able to get the company to role over,” Mike noted as he scribbled onto his legal pad.

“It’s not just me, kid. When you talk to the women, who, by the way, can’t be here now because they’re too busy working to feed their kids, you’ll realize they know exactly what’s going on, too.”

“Leyla, there’s a big difference between knowing something and being able to prove it in court. That’s especially true when you’re suing major companies for discrimination in a time that’s been good for corporate interests legally,” Jessica corrected.

“So you think we won’t be able to win?”

“Define ‘win’. Do you want to take money out of the hands of a bunch of racist, country-clubbing supermarket execs or do you want to revitalize the South Bronx? I’m happy to help either way, but I need to know that you and the other women have thought about this.”

“I want their help more than their money,” she decided, taking another sip of the lukewarm coffee. “But logic doesn’t work with the guys at the top. Most of them are old and stuck in their ways – no matter how irrational they are. We’re going to have to crack some skulls…legally.”

“Like I said, I’m happy to help with that. We’re going to need hit them with a two-pronged attack – negative PR and a damning theory for trial as backup – but we should focus on trying to turn them on each other first. Once the smart ones have figured out that this is a business opportunity, they’ll start hounding the good ol’ boys,” Jessica advised. “Now, when can we meet with the other women?”

Leyla was still listing times and dates when Mike’s phone went off. He turned to shut it off but Jessica gave him a dangerous glare and motioned for him to take it out in the hallway. When he’d shut the door behind him he looked down to see an unlisted number. Mike didn’t get many of those, and wondered if it wasn’t Grammy’s maid ringing him as part of a prank.

_“Mikey, are you there?”_

Nobody called him Mikey except for…shit.

“T-Trevor?” Mike’s mind was immediately thrown into pushover mode.

_“Yeah, dweeb, it’s me. Where the hell have you been, and why haven’t you answered your goddamned phone? You know what, never mind that now. I’m in a tight spot and I need your help.”_

“Trevor…what?” Mike asked as he turned back to face the room he’d just left. “I’m at work right now and I can’t really talk.”

_“Stop making up shit. I know you don’t deliver on Thursdays, and I need you to bail me out of lockup.”_

“Lockup? What the hell, Trevor? I can’t do that right now.”

 _“Mikey, you’re going to get your goddamned ass over to the Tombs and bail me this goddamned minute. You’re my buddy, now start acting like it,”_ Trevor screeched through the receiver. He hung up immediately afterward, giving Mike no time to argue his way out of the obligation.

The screen reverted to a picture of Mike and Grammy and eventually faded to black. He was too busy figuring out a plan of action to realize he was still clutching the thing minutes later. Trevor would probably be able to find someone else to spring him, and it wasn’t as though prisoners actually received only one phone call. Moreover, Trevor knew the system well enough to ask for a lawyer first.

Still, part of Mike told him to find a way to get over there and help out his old friend. But how would he do that? There definitely weren’t any cabs around this part of the city and it wasn’t like he could just ask Jessica to give him a lift over to the Tombs with no explanation.

Crap: Jessica.

“Mike, let’s head outside. I’ve already texted Keith to pick us up,” the women announced, having stepped out into the hallway. “Leyla and I scheduled meetings and we should be ready to move forward with the next step of the case as it stands.”

“O-Okay.”

“Are you going to tell me who was so important that you let him or her disrupt our meeting?”

Mike hesitated, not sure if Jessica would want to hear about the latest round of crap he was hoisting on her by association. Better now than later, he reasoned.

“…It was Trevor.”

“I told you to break contact with him, Mike,” she reminded him, heading toward the front of the building.

“I did, but…he’s in lockup.”

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“He called me from the phone there and asked me to post bail for him. And now I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, surprisingly frank considering the situation.

“Leave him there. This is probably the best thing that could have happened – he’ll be stuck behind bars where he can’t deal any more drugs and you won’t have to worry about him wrecking your life.”

“Jessica, I can’t just do that.”

“Why? Because you owe him for all the stuff he did before he turned rotten?” she quizzed him, holding his eyes with her paralyzing gaze. “You don’t owe him shit. He’s a manipulator and he’s finally feeling the consequences of his actions.”

“And what about the consequences of my actions, Jessica? I’m only a couple months in and already the walls are crumbling around us. Will you dump me in the scrap heap when I’m the one in lockup?”

“You think I’d leave an idiot like you flapping in the wind with a bunch of quota-filling cops?” she joked, a smile cracking through the stern veneer. “We’re a team, Mike. That’s what makes this different from whatever you had with Trevor: we’re stuck with each other even when times get rough.”

Mike was dumbstruck once again. He hadn’t anticipated that response at all.

“I’m glad you shared this with me, but don’t ever juxtapose me with that bastard again. Now tell me you won’t go and see him.”

“I…won’t. But I don’t feel right about not helping him.”

“You don’t have to help him, idiot. The system, as screwed up as it is, is there to reform people like him. And it’s not like he’s an angel, either. Do you think he did the things the police are alleging?”

“I don’t know the specifics…but yeah, probably. He was lucky before because he was a small-scale dealer and distributor, but he was trying to move up the chain when I cut off contact with him.”

“Then you have your answer. Is it alright if I have Keith drop you off at 50th again? He wants to see his son’s performance in a school play and won’t be able to make it if he has to haul your ass out to Brooklyn.”

“Jessica Pearson has a heart of gold,” Mike sang, some confidence restored.

“It’s surrounded by steel barbs – and don’t you forget it,” she scolded with an accusatory finger as she walked through the door Mike was holding open.

\-----

“I thought you would be able to figure something out, Rachel,” Harold moaned, easing back into the chair in the paralegal’s office.

“Even I can’t make miracles happen all the time, Harold. Besides, you just closed a deal with Harvey. Why are you fretting about the pro bono?”

“Because these clients need our help, and the fact that they lost their cool earlier doesn’t undo all the shit their boss put them through.”

“Maybe. But your clients also created an assault case in the process of working out a settlement. You’ve lost most of the leverage you had, and it won’t be worth it if it impacts Harvey’s paying clients.”

“So there’s nothing we can do?”

“I didn’t say that. But I don’t have any ideas. Don’t you ever bounce strategies off of the other associates – maybe one of them would be able to give you a place to start?”

“Mike is the only one who talks to me as a friend, and he hasn’t come back. I don’t even want to think of what Kyle might say if I asked him to help me.”

“Harold, that’s it,” Rachel exclaimed, reaching for her office phone. She quickly punched in a number and switched over to speaker mode while the dial tone commenced.

_“Rachel? Hold on, I just got off the subway.”_

“Mike, Harold and I need you to come up with some wacky tactic to help his pro bono clients from last week. Y’know, the ones you helped stop kill their boss?”

“I’ve got nothing, Mike. If both sides are violent or aggressive then we don’t have a way to browbeat the owner into concessions. I really want to help them.”

_“Hmm. Are there any other laws or codes of conduct the owner has broken?”_

“None that I’ve found. The place was a little messy; cigarette butts out front and the windows were blocked out with ads.”

_“That might be a zoning violation. Do you think the other stores in the area have tried to get her to clean up the mess?”_

“That’s a good start,” Harold chimed. “But it might not be enough…wait, this place buys hair and then treats it with heavy-duty chemicals.”

_“Do you think the owner got the right permits for the use of that stuff in a mixed commercial-residential structure?”_

“Probably not. Wendy said her English isn’t that great and I can’t imagine her getting through the city’s bureaucracy for such an otherwise small issue.”

“And someone in this office must know another someone who works in that department of the municipal government!” Rachel cried triumphantly. “If this woman has cut corners then you can offer to help the place stay open while they file the paperwork in return for your previous demands, and it wouldn’t even be extortion _per se_.”

_“Awesome. Does this mean one of you will pay for lunch when I get back?” Mike asked, a hopeful note to resonating in his voice._

“Just get Jessica to let you come back first, Mike,” Rachel directed.

“She means ‘yes’, Mike. Or at least, I’ll buy you lunch,” Harold announced as he sprung from his chair. “I’m going to start on this now before Louis makes me edit the briefs Jeffrey screwed up.”

_“Hold on. Before you go, Harold slash Rachel: you wouldn’t happen to know a good criminal attorney, would you? A buddy of mine is in lockup and I want to pay for his defense.”_

“I know a few, Mike,” Rachel piped in, “but you’re going to tell me about this guy when you get back. And you have to help me prep for the LSATs.”

\-----

Harvey was in a pleasant mood on Friday…er, as pleasant as Harvey Specter could ever be. The day before his associate had proved what the senior partner sensed in him the day he hired the curly-haired ferret, not screwing up their meeting with Ms. McAfee and then providing a winning method to clean up the pro bono from the week before.

It had partially distracted him from all the lurid images of a certain ex-associate floating around his head, allowing him to get a decent night’s sleep for the first time in at least a week. As a reward, Harvey decided to drop by the rookie’s cubicle and give him a morning greeting. Donna had suggested that he show the kid more attention herself, and following through on her advice might speed up the assistant’s return, too.

As he walked into the pool, though, he spotted the young man busily chatting on the phone. There was no need to speak to any of their clients this early, so Harvey decided to eavesdrop and maybe learn a little teasing material…in his role as a mentor, of course.

“Yeah, it totally paid off. She hadn’t bothered to clear any of it with the labor standards board or the branch of the zoning department in charge of hazardous chemicals.”

Harvey narrowed his eyes. Here he was about to reward the rookie and the win hadn’t even been his. The conversation halted him in mid-pounce, though, as the other person’s identity was made known.

“Yeah, Mike. We probably would have figured this out last week if you had been around. Do you want me to pass this on to Jessica or Wendy – let them know that you’re worth a second chance?”

At that, Harvey’s good mood imploded. With his index finger he pressed down on the switch hook, ending the conversation. Harold, predictably, freaked out, dropping the handset and rolling backwards in his chair.

“Harold, you’d better have a good reason for why you were speaking with Mike Ross.”

“M-Mr. Specter, I was just-”

“Just what, Harold? Thanking him for letting you take credit for his idea?”

“What? No, Mr. Specter, it was my idea-”

“Don’t lie to me, Harold.”

“I swear, Mr. Specter. Mike and Rachel helped me brainstorm the idea. You know I wouldn’t take credit for something that wasn’t mine!”

Mike Ross was still winning cases for the firm even after Jessica had sent him home. Damnit. Just how badly had Harvey screwed up? The kid wasn’t just plaguing him with filthy daydreams but helping his lawyer’s RBI, too…fuck, it looked like it was finally time to fold his losing hand.

“Harold?”

“Yes, Mr. Specter?”

“You’re on precedent research for Hertzoff. The other side rejected our offer and it looks like it’s going to take more browbeating. If you have any questions, just bug the paralegal.”

“So I’m not in trouble?” the curly-haired associate asked.

Harvey didn’t bother to answer him, instead reaching in his pocket for his phone while he made his way to Jessica’s office. Wendy studied him carefully when he appeared next to her desk before granting him an audience with the queen.

“Harvey, can I help you?” she asked, looking up from her laptop.

“I have some things I need to do; I’m heading out for the day.”

“Did Ferris and Sloane tell you to take the day off?” she asked, a grin beginning to form at the corners of her mouth.

“No,” he replied, not in the mood for their usual repartee.

“You have a meeting with one of your startup clients in the afternoon, but fortuitously I have an opening. Do you want me to entertain him while you’re out?”

“Please.”

“Jesus, it must be serious. You just used the word ‘please’ without a kick to the shin.”

Harvey let that go without a retort. He breezed over to his office, collecting a few important papers and ignoring Cameron in the process. Ray was driving him to his first destination not five minutes later.

\-----

Donna pushed the door of the non-descript diner open, stopping briefly to allow her eyes to adjust. When they had, she discovered her boss sitting at the little booth where they’d had so many important discussions. Judging from his body language and the fact that he’d been the one to pick the location, they were in for another heart-to-heart.

“Harvey, this had better be good. I meant what I said about posting your Social Security number,” she threatened, lowering herself onto the blue leather cushion.

“I know.”

“And no amount of puppy-dog pleading is going to get me to overlook the demand I made when I left the office after the mock trial.”

“I know.”

Harvey looked more like a kicked puppy; he was unable to even hold eye contact with her, instead staring down into his coffee. Donna hadn’t seen him like this since the Monday after Zoe had rejected his offer to spend the weekend in the Adirondacks.

“What finally did it?”

“You know I can’t function without you, Donna.”

“Of course I know that, but you usually last a little longer when we’re fighting.”

“It’s…Mike.”

“He wormed his way into your heart and you finally realized it?” she asked, flagging down a waitress to order a bear claw. Hey, she’d exercised enough to earn a treat.

Harvey’s head shot up and he gave her a hollow stare before taking a long gulp of caffeine.

“I messed up. And I’m trying to fix it, but I need your help.”

“Was that a request, because I didn’t hear a ‘please’ anywhere in there.”

“I say please, people laugh at me. I don’t say please, people reprimand me… _Please_ Donna, help me fix the mess I made.”

“Uh-uh. First things first: what’s in it for me?”

For the first time in the conversation, Harvey broke into a smirk. He nudged her foot with his and his body relaxed back into the booth. Crossing his arms, he stared at her before lobbing off his opening offer.

“I’m willing to treat your time away as paid vacation, and I won’t dock any of your sick days.”

“Not good enough. I get that, plus you owe me double-pay overtime while I sort out the mess you made. That’s Saturday and Sunday so everything will be back to normal for you by Monday.”

“Time-and-a-half,” he countered.

“Nope. Double.”

“…Fine.”

“And my parents are going to be in town next weekend, so I’ll need your seats for the Yankees.”

“Done.”

“And tickets for a Broadway show. Front row.”

“Off-Broadway. Whichever seats are decent, but not front row. And they don’t get to stay in my condo. And I’m not paying for their hotel room, either.”

“…Deal,” Donna agreed, even though she knew she could probably extract all those concessions if she pushed hard enough. But it looked like Harvey had already been through hell, and deep down she hated seeing him like that. “Good doing business with you, Mr. Specter.”

“Good doing business with you, Ms. Paulsen,” Harvey mimicked, holding out a hand (which she shook). “Now help me out with my problem.”

“Which is what exactly?”

“How do I get him to not hate me?”

“Oh for crying out loud, Harvey, you sound like a character from an edgy high school drama,” she groaned. “Mike doesn’t hate you.”

“Did you talk to him while you were out?”

“Well, he was the inspiration for my strike, after all.”

“About that – you didn’t actually go out on the street and picket, did you?” Harvey joked. She kicked him in his ridiculous dress shoes for that.

“Skin this fair can’t be out in the sun for extended durations. But back to the topic at hand: Mike doesn’t hate you. He’s confused and a little angry – rightfully, I might add – but he’ll hear you out if you try to talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to skin me alive?”

“Well, we did crack a joke about the two of us rolling your corpse up in a yoga mat and dumping you in the Hudson.”

Harvey lowered his eyelids as he took another sip of coffee.

“But it was just a joke!”

“A yoga mat? Really? I’m worth at least a decent Persian rug or something. Or a Giants banner…”

“Harvey, don’t get lost on tangents,” Donna warned, snapping her fingers. “All you need to do is go and explain what happened and then wait to see if he’ll forgive you. If he doesn’t, then he wasn’t worth chasing in the first place,” she assured as his face grew darker. “But if he does, then you’ll know he’s capable of putting up with your moody shit.”

“Remind me again why I like you.”

“Because I can put up with your moody shit. Unlike the three…no, four women you tried but failed to lay while I was gone,” she guessed, assessing the angle of his tie. “What? I’m Donna.”

“Do you really need to bring up my-”

“Impotence.”

“I am _not_ …that,” he corrected, looking over to the man at the counter and trying to smile his way out of the worker’s odd expression. “And I’m not going to discuss my affairs with ladies because I am a gentleman.”

“More like attempted affairs. What a scandal: Harvey Specter, the greatest closer this city has ever seen, can’t close the evening with any one of four gorgeous young women.”

“I-”

“Your little corporal down there was too dead set on sinking into some sweet, sweet associate booty to accept anything else, but you didn’t know it because you were too busy being outraged. It’s kinda romantic, actually.”

“Okay, first of all, _general_. Second, you know for a fact it’s not little in the slightest.”

“So you admit my previous observation was correct, then?”

“Donna.”

“Alright, alright. I concede that you are something resembling a gentleman. Now go and woo him instead of me.”

“About that-”

“Here,” she predicted, slipping a small scrap of paper into his hand. “Ray should be able to figure out where that is. He’s in apartment 3F, by the way.”

“Wait, you came with this in hand?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t be capable of anticipating where this conversation would end?”

“No, but I didn’t think that you’d bother to write it down ahead of time…Wait, you had this ready and waiting in your purse since the day I told you about his secret, didn’t you?”

“Oh, even before that, actually. I mean, I took it for granted that you’d do something stupid and then have to go to him and apologize.”

“You’re-”

“Brilliant, stunning, inspirational – yeah, I’ve heard it all.”

Harvey rolled his eyes at her, but then hesitated in recollection. He reached into his pocket for his phone and started tapping frantically. “Do you think you could get me a pair of tickets to this show for Saturday night?” he asked, handing the device over to her. When she read the tagline she was taken aback at the tenderness of the request.

“Harvey, there’s hope for you yet. Alright, I’ll have them waiting at the box office for you.”

“Thanks, Donna.” He took her hands in his for a moment before retrieving his phone and starting for the door.

“Harvey?”

“Yes?”

“There’s one more thing. I had Mike join me for yoga one day…”

“And?”

“The kid can pretzel.”

If Donna’s boss didn’t have enough motivation for his next task when he sat down at the diner, he sure as hell did now. She didn’t even have to look at his crotch to know that his dick was doing cartwheels in his pants.

\-----

Mike hung up the phone, feeling oddly accomplished with himself. He’d just agreed to pay another lawyer he didn’t know a crazy amount of money to defend Trevor in court (on top of the money he’d already sent digitally to post the man’s bail), effectively skirting the paradox of helping his former best friend without getting involved directly. With any luck Trevor would escape prison and be so grateful that he’d leave Mike alone afterwards.

The associate felt so accomplished, in fact, that he actually bothered to get dressed, despite the fact that he was still working from his apartment. A couple days when there hadn’t been a client meeting he’d sat in his underwear and constructed legal briefs or researched case histories with the firm’s digital archives. It was liberating and helped him cut back on his dry-cleaning bill, sure, but it was also a tad demoralizing.

Spying the pile of clothes in his hamper, he decided to put his newfound initiative to good work and do laundry before emailing Jessica to see what she needed him to do. Oddly, she hadn’t sent anything over yet and Mike was beginning to wonder if he was getting one of the fabled days off that Wendy had hinted at. He laughed at his optimism and picked up a yellow t-shirt lying in the corner, giving it a cursory sniff and deciding it could do with a wash, too.

Mike had just rounded up the last of the stragglers when someone started knocking on his door. He paused while he tried to think of who could be forcing a visit, and as he did the severity of the raps increased.

“Louis, if that’s you again, I’m not filing a complaint against Harvey. Just go back to the office and figure out some other way to get under my skin like you always do.”

The noise stopped for a moment and then the pounding started up again. Sighing, Mike made his way to the door and unchained it, preparing for another dumb argument over morals or principles or whatever. He opened it and then jumped back when he saw who it was.

“Mike.”

He could try to force himself past the man and make a run for it, but the senior partner would probably grab him. Bathroom? Fire escape? Time was ticking and he was losing his opportunity to escape.

“Mike,” the brunet called, reaching out to take him by the arms but stopping himself before he made contact. “Relax.”

“Harvey, what are you doing here? How did you find out where I live?”

“Mike, I need to talk to you.”

What the hell did that mean? Were the police waiting downstairs? He could still try to make a break for it, except he couldn’t remember where he’d left his phone and he’d need to inform Jessica.

“Mike, please!” the man growled.

None of it registered, though. Once again Mike found himself shutting down in the presence of the older man, only this time it wasn’t in a good way. He didn’t even notice the senior partner leaning in until he felt their lips smashed together.

Harvey was kissing him.

Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter eleven will be up on Thursday.


	11. About Damn Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahoy. If you'd rather not read such prurient material, you'd best avoid this chapter.

“What the fuck, Harvey!?” Mike cried, springing back until he made contact with the back of the couch.

“Will you at least hear me out, Mike?” the brunet asked, not moving from his position at the doorway.

“Why are you here? And why did you just kiss me?”

“Mike, don’t ask a question when you already know the answer.”

“We’re lawyers – that’s what we do. More importantly, I don’t know the answer. That wasn’t the kiss of death just now, was it?”

“What?” Harvey struggled, wiping a hand across his face. “No, you idiot. I’m here to try and fix this, and if you’d just stop freaking out for one second you’d realize that.”

“You…fix this?”

“Yes,” the older man stated flatly. “Can I come in?”

“…Okay.”

“Jesus, when I told Jessica to send you home I didn’t realize it was to this disgusting dump. Seriously, this is your apartment? I think I’m going to have my shoe guy scrub the bottom of these wingtips for a week.”

“I know you probably don’t have much practice, but that’s not exactly the best opening line to an apology, Harvey,” Mike offered acerbically as he plopped down on the sofa. “I’d offer you something to drink, but it probably wouldn’t measure up to your standards.”

“No, it most certainly would not,” Harvey replied with a furrowed brow as he walked further inside. He gave a wary look at the couch, but when Mike shrugged he took a seat. The older man gazed around the room for a bit, scrunching his eyes whenever he spotted something foul.

“I admit it. I screwed up when I ruled against you-”

“Yeah, well that goes without saying.”

“Mike, will you let me finish?” he asked, staring at the other man. “Don’t you want to know why I did it?”

“Because I’m a fraud?”

“First of all,” the older man began, ignoring the previous comment, “you tried to use Kirk against me.”

“I used Kirk to shake some sense into you,” the younger man contested. “And I seem to remember you enjoying the quotes.”

“I do watch other television shows. They didn’t have to all be Kirk’s lines.”

“Well _excuse_ me. We only spent two nights with each other and it wasn’t exactly like I could drop by your office and ask you about your guilty pleasures.”

Harvey smirked and patted the younger man on the head, earning a scathing look in return. “You know you’re pretty cute when you get all pouty, rookie.”

“I might not be able to literally throw you out of my apartment, but-”

“Your arms are pretty scrawny. Have you ever thought of taking up boxing?” Harvey scoffed, dodging a playful punch aimed at his tricep. “Mike, I told you about my affinity for _Star Trek_ in confidence. I don’t want everyone at the office learning that about me.”

“In confidence? You told me on our first night together.”

“Yes, because you gave the best head that I’ve had…ever. And I know that you can’t deny that I was equally earth-shattering.”

“Braggart.”

Mike’s arms were still folded and he wasn’t looking at Harvey directly, but the older man could feel the tension miasma beginning to lift. Which was doubly good, since the blond’s building was like an emergency reserve of funky smells. Brooklyn was just as disgusting as it always was, it seemed.

“Besides, you mixed up quotes from the television series with quotes from the movies. And you didn’t even fit _‘Khaaaaaaan’_ in – what kind of half-assed cross-examination reference parade was that?”

“Correction: you’re a braggart and a dork. Is that really the whole reason why you ruled against me?”

“Of course not. Mike, I’m not that simple-minded. For another thing, I…I used to work at the DA’s office.”

“You…what? You were a prosecutor?”

“Yes. I spent three years putting crooks away. I’m not in that world anymore, but when you told me what you and Jessica had done, that instinct came back.”

“So you would have thrown me in jail if it hadn’t been for Jessica?”

“No, probably not. You don’t seem like the kind of person who would fare well in there,” he assessed, glancing at Mike’s frame. “This will sound stupid, but at first I thought you had something over Jessica and were using it to coerce her into giving you a job.”

“Maybe I did suck you brainless,” Mike taunted, shaking his head. “We both know that Jessica Pearson does not take orders from anyone, and I don’t think there’s anyone crazy enough to try and put her under duress.”

“It was a split-second theory, rookie, and you’ve proven that you’re pretty plucky. Christ, when did you become so salty?”

“Oh, just during the time I was stuck working from home.”

“So Jessica never actually fired you? Not even for a moment?”

“No. I thought you had figured that out by now. She’s not crazy enough to try and get rid of me when I’m shouldering half her workload.”

“Mike, if you’re going to exaggerate, at least keep it within reason.”

Mike stuck out his tongue before getting up and heading over to the refrigerator. He pulled out a water bottle and drew heavily from it, mesmerizing Harvey with the undulations of his pale throat. The blond set it down on the counter and turned to look out the window.

“So I tried to use Shatner against you and I set off your goody two-shoes alert switch. Does that about sum up the reasons why you were a huge bastard?”

“Not quite. Thirdly, you managed to win over everyone in my life to your side.”

“Everyone?”

“Would you like me to list them?” Harvey groaned. “First, you won over Jessica and Wendy. Then you got Donna to assist you, even going so far as to go on strike for your cause. Harold idolizes you almost as much as he does me. Hell, when I told Ray that we were headed to your place he said it was a great idea.”

“He did?”

“Yes. That man hasn’t spoken up about anything in my private life for years, but then you come along and spend a couple car rides with him and he’s singing your praises.”

“Maybe you should try being friendlier with him. There’s no telling what he might say.”

“Watch your sass, Mike. I’m responsible for those people, and when I saw how much you were affecting them and how much they all stood to lose if you got caught, I got defensive.”

“I think you’re missing the point, Harvey: everyone totally loves me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Is there anything else?”

“Yes, actually. I don’t know if I should share it with you, though; your ego might get too big to fit through the apartment door.”

“Hey, you’re still trying to win me back. No judging, supplicant,” Mike called, waving his hand dismissively.

“Mike, the other reason why I smiled at the end of your cross-examination…”

“What? Just tell me, Harvey.”

“The way you were able to hold your own in court like you did…Mike, don’t you realize that you can do anything? That’s not hyperbole – with your brain and work ethic you could get a job anywhere. You wouldn’t need to commit a string of felonies to be a success.”

“Harvey, it’s not like that.”

“Why? Do you need money? I'd be happy to loan you some funds so that you could go back to school and finish your degree.”

“Harvey, I don’t want your money! Being a lawyer is my dream. Ever since my parents died and that asshole insurance attorney screwed us out of getting justice for them, all I’ve ever wanted to do is help people. And now that I’ve accepted Jessica’s offer, I can’t leave and come back; I’ve already marked myself as something I’m not.”

“Dreams can change, Mike!”

“Mine don’t! If you can’t accept that then maybe I should quit,” the blond exclaimed, his eyes starting to water.

“Fuck, Mike,” Harvey exclaimed, getting up from the couch and heading for the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around the blond and clutched him tightly, wondering how he could have missed his tenderness. “I messed up. I’m…sorry.”

The word came out as scarcely a whisper.

“You were still pissed at me Wednesday night. I thought we’d never speak to each other again.”

“I was pissed at you for a while, but that night?” the brunet asked, pulling back to examine the younger man’s face.

“You stared at me like you were going to toss that champagne glass at my head. I booked it as soon as I could get my legs to move.”

“Mike,” Harvey chuckled, “that wasn’t anger you were seeing.”

“It wasn’t?”

“Do you have any idea how incredible your ass looks in that tux?” he questioned, wondering if Mike really was oblivious to his own sex appeal. “You’re forbidden from wearing it at company events, by the way.”

“You can’t do that. _I’m a human being, goddamnit. My life has value_ ,” Mike imitated, wiping his eyes with a small smile.

“Careful, rookie. Your career hasn’t crashed so far that you’re on network news,” Harvey laughed, leaning in and initiating a drawn-out kiss. Happily, Mike didn’t resist or jerk his head back until they both needed to breathe.

“Apology half-accepted, but you totally owe me big time.”

“About that-”

“Do you have something in mind?” Mike asked, pulling back so that he could cross his arms over his chest. “I’m willing to listen.”

“I’m not going back to the office today, and I was thinking that maybe you could spend the weekend with me?”

“Wait, wait, wait. You want me to agree to stay at your place for two nights, ten minutes after I was so freaked out by your presence I considered fleeing down the fire escape?”

“I was hoping for three nights, actually. It’s not like anything else about us makes any sense. Besides,” he progressed, leaning in to suck on the patch of skin below Mike’s ear, “you did want me to make it up to you.”

“Jesus, Casanova, you’re way too good at that,” Mike moaned, tilting his head back to allow more access. “Can we have makeup sex right here?”

“God, no. Ray is parked outside. Grab a suit and whatever other essentials you’ll need at my place. I’ll be waiting downstairs.”

“So we’re really going to have an all-weekend shagathon? Because I was joking a little back there…”

“Yes, we are, so long as you promise not to use the word ‘shagathon’ again.”

“I’m sorry, Harvey. I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Just hurry up, HAL,” Harvey replied as he made for the hallway.

\-----

“Don’t you think that was a little unfair to Ray?” Mike asked as he and Harvey stepped out of the freight elevator.

“A, he put up the partition in advance. B, he’s dealt with me making out with plenty of people in the backseat in our time together. And C, if anyone was unfair, it was you for taking so long to pack.”

“I don’t exactly keep a suitcase ready for something like this.”

“Now you will. And people say I’m not a good mentor,” Harvey clucked, fishing his keys from his pocket.

“Finally,” Mike sighed as he set his bag down once Harvey had opened the door. He was still holding the garment bag when the older man re-initiated the kissing session from earlier. It was torrid and needy and Mike was thrown against the wall for the second time that day. Harvey definitely had a thing for denying his bedmates freedom of movement.

“I think we’ve talked enough, so we might as well get to the fun part. Why don’t you go to the bathroom and get yourself ready? I’ll take this,” he offered as he snatched the suit from a still breathless Mike, “and hang it up while I get undressed.” Without another word he strutted off to the bedroom, putting on a show for the younger man.

“Fuck me,” Mike uttered thoughtlessly when he’d disappeared.

“That’s the idea, Mike,” Harvey called from the bedroom.

Mike woke up from the haze and hurried off to the en suite, retrieving his toiletry bag. This was the part of bottoming he despised most. When people asked him about anal sex they still seemed to think that he just spat on a dick and sat down on it.

If only.

Mike stripped out of his clothes and filled up the enema bulb with warm water. He was lying prone on the floor with his ass sticking up, waiting for the water to do its thing when Harvey came into the room. Mike couldn’t see the man but he could feel his presence and definitely heard a filthy chuckle from the doorway.

“If you want access you’re going to have to act nice,” Mike warned. “Bottom shaming won’t get me wet.”

Mike took in a sharp breath when he felt a hand begin massaging one of his cheeks, a thumb ghosting over his hole. “I would never, Mike; I’ve told you before that I’m versatile. Besides, you’re already soaked.” (Mike groaned at that.) “I was just thinking of all the things I want to do to your beautiful ass. It’s so tight,” Harvey admired as he laid a kiss on the small of his back.

“It’s still going to be a bit,” Mike warned.

“I know. I just wanted to show my appreciation while I came in here to grab the extra lube.”

“Extra lube?”

“I don’t know what kind you like, so I’m giving you some options. Did I mention that neither one of us will be coming for a quite a while?” Harvey asked as he squeezed Mike’s buttocks.

“ _Fuck_.”

“Later, Mike. I still have to finish undressing. Let’s grab a shower together once you’re ready.”

With that Harvey opened one of the cabinets and left the room. Mike emptied himself and repeated the process. This time he stood up after a few minutes and started jumping up and down on the balls of his feet. Harvey returned naked and kissed Mike after he’d vacated a final time. The older man started the water and guided him toward the shower.

“Bottoms first. See, I can be chivalrous when I want,” Harvey offered with a hand to help Mike get in the tub.

“I’m only the designated bottom for now.”

“I know. Do you think I’d want to miss out on this?” Harvey asked as he began absently stroking Mike’s semi-rigid member. “But I’ll let today’s events stand on their own merits. If you never want me to pound you again, so be it.”

“That’s not what I-” but the statement was cut short by a washcloth beginning to make the rounds of Mike’s body. Harvey’s touch was stunningly gentle, and the younger man didn’t even feel embarrassed as Harvey examined Mike’s body in depth. The older man began planting kisses on his shoulder as the cloth wiped over his chest.

“One would never know how much grooming you do while you’re wearing a suit, Mike. You even trim your chest hair back.”

“I don’t like seeing messy curls all over when I get out of the shower in the morning. You like it?”

“Well, it makes this easier,” Harvey judged as he moved his tongue to one of the man’s nipples.

“Awwnf.”

“I really must learn your language,” the older man joked as he squatted down and began scrubbing Mike’s legs. “Christ you have nice thighs.”

Mike didn’t respond. He was struck by how thorough Harvey was, carefully cleaning every inch of skin and applying more soap to the cloth when it began to run low.

“This is my favorite part,” Harvey stated as he moved Mike so that he was bent over and the water was falling on his rear. Harvey stood and Mike heard the sounds of him adjusting the showerhead. First a mist, then a sharp, focused cannon, and finally-

“Uh, Harvey?”

“Yes?” the man inquired as he resumed his squatting position and began wiping around Mike’s hole.

“You have a pulsating showerhead?”

“It’s even insertable, Mike, but we’ll leave that for another time.” Just then he felt Harvey’s hot breath on his hole. A moment later the unmistakable sensation of a tongue followed, only to stop and give way to the punctuated blast of water.

Water, breath, tongue cycled through several times and Mike relaxed into the pleasure of it all. He glanced over to the mirror on the other side of the bath and stiffened at the sight of Harvey lapping at his rear. With all the marble the room felt like some grandiose Roman structure, adding to the sense of debauchery.

“So, do you still feel like an abused bottom?”

“No.”

“Good. Nice as this is, I think we should move to the bed. Did I miss any spots?”

“You know you didn’t,” Mike accused as he stood back up and kissed Harvey. The older man reached behind them and shut off the tap. They dried each other off and when Mike went to hang up the damp towels Harvey ripped them from his hand and hurled them to the floor.

“Now you worry about that? Move your ass, Mike,” Harvey lectured with a couple of spanks.

Mike purposely dragged out the (admittedly brief) trip to get some more punishment. Once they’d arrived he flopped onto his back and lifted his legs up suggestively. Harvey crawled on top of him and eased them back down around his hips.

“Huh?”

“There’s still more foreplay,” Harvey chided, rubbing his hands across Mike’s chest. He leaned down and took Mike’s cock into his mouth without bothering to pull back the foreskin. Before Mike could start thrusting, though, he found himself restrained at his own hips.

“Harvey, you never let me move.”

Mike surmised from the hum around his cock that Harvey had no intention of surrendering to his implicit request. The brunet’s movements were languid and obviously caring. Harvey looked up at Mike as he pushed his head halfway down the younger man’s now fully erect member. It was too much and Mike had to close his eyes and lean back.

Harvey pulled off Mike’s cock and began sucking on his balls while pumping his shaft for a minute. The older man then nudged Mike’s legs back up slightly, licking a stripe along his perineum to his hole. Now that it was dry Mike could fully appreciate the sensation as Harvey pushed his tongue inside and lapped at the exposed pinkness.

“Ohhhhh.”

“You like that Mike? Tell me what you want,” Harvey commanded before he sucked in one of Mike’s balls again.

“I want you to fuck me, Harvey.”

“You mean this isn’t enough?” Harvey asked. Mike opened his eyes and looked down to see the man’s smug grin.

“It won’t be enough until you’re inside me completely,” Mike confessed, and the grin grew larger still. Harvey got up from the bed and took a variety of bottles from the nightstand as well as a box of condoms.

“Water or silicone-based?”

“Silicone. Water dries up too fast.”

“Hmm. Let’s try this one, then,” Harvey concluded as he tipped open the cap and squeezed some into his hand. He rubbed it between his fingers and then carefully nudged a digit into his hole.

“Harvey, this isn’t my first time. You can hurry it up if you want.”

“It’s my first time with you. And I’m going to be as gentle with your body as it deserves – at least while I'm prepping you. How’s that?” Harvey asked as he pushed his finger in deeper.

“Good. It’s – ungghhh.”

“There it is,” Harvey surmised as he began bending the finger pad over Mike’s prostate. He slipped in another finger and alternated between scissoring them and massaging the clump of nerves. Precome started oozing from Mike’s now half-hard cock.

Mike lifted his legs back into his chest and pushed his rear up so that his hole became more accessible. Harvey took the hint and added a third finger into the process.

“You look so beautiful like this, Mike: your ass up in the air, your hole loose and slippery. I don’t even need to be eidetic to remember this.”

“Harvey, hurry up and fuck me.”

“I’ve wanted this so badly,” Harvey declared as he withdrew his fingers and began slapping the head of his cock against Mike’s hole. “How badly do you want it, Mike?”

“Just as much as you…I-”

“You what, rookie?”

“I jacked off to the thought of this – even when I was upset with you.”

“Me, too,” Harvey conceded, leaning up to kiss the younger man. “By the way, I got the results of the tests,” Harvey stated as he pulled back again to open the box of condoms.

“Huh? What tests?”

“The STI tests. We both came back negative for everything, but we should probably be safe, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed, although he was secretly a little disappointed.

“Is there a problem?” the older man asked as he ripped open a packet and rolled the latex onto his shaft.

“Just hurry it up. I don’t like the breeze on my hole when it’s this open.”

Harvey chuckled and scooted back in around Mike’s hip. He slowly rubbed his head against Mike’s hole and locked his gaze on the younger man. The blond realized Harvey wanted him to be the one to begin penetration, so he took hold of the older man’s cock and guided it inside himself.

Mike had expected it to burn a little. His jaw had ached after the blowjob he’d given a couple weeks ago, after all. But Harvey was so thick it was ridiculous. Even with the rimming and finger fucking he still felt like he was being pushed to his absolute limit.

Harvey stilled his entry and kissed Mike again. He could probably read the expression on the younger man’s face. Mike felt teeth on his lips and the pain there helped to distract him.

“Breathe, Mike. I won’t push in anymore until you’re ready. I know I’m big.”

“Leave it to you to be sweet and egotistical at the same time,” Mike huffed out as he struggled to regain his composure.

“It’s my specialty,” Harvey joked, leaning back to stare into Mike’s eyes. As the pain abated, the older man moved to suck on his neck.

“You can start again,” Mike prompted a few moments later. He felt the massive thing push in deeper, but with his sphincter relaxed the subsequent inches were significantly easier. “There; much better.”

“So wonderful,” Harvey admired as Mike felt the warmth of Harvey’s torso against his thighs. It took about another minute, but sure enough he’d taken Harvey to the hilt inside himself. “It only gets better from here.”

Harvey slowly pulled out and pushed himself back in. On the third entry Harvey’s cock jumped and the head thwacked into Mike’s prostate. The younger man was vaguely aware of releasing some swears but his vision was already whiting out.

Harvey laughed and moved in for a kiss. Mike allowed it but decided to squeeze down around Harvey’s cock as punishment…or reward. He wasn’t really sure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Mike. Fuck!” Harvey shouted as he sharply drew in a breath. “You need to warn me before doing that.”

“Oh, do I? You still owe me,” Mike replied, punctuating his guess with another squeeze. He knew all those long bike rides would come in handy.

“You naughty little boy. There’s only one thing to do with you,” Harvey responded, pulling out entirely. When Mike whimpered at the loss Harvey slammed it back in, shocking the former man a few inches across the bed.

Mike pulled Harvey in for a kiss and then let him repeat the process: pulling out completely only to return on a sharp, deep stroke. They both enjoyed the feeling of absence followed by jolting contact, although the blond knew his ass would be sore tomorrow.

“Mike,” Harvey moaned as switched the rhythm, threading his arms underneath the younger man and wrapping them around his shoulders, pulling him in deeper. “You’re so fucking tight around me.”

Mike made no response but wrapped his legs around Harvey’s back and pulled him down into a messy kiss. It was amazing; Harvey was completely buried inside his ass and their lips were sealed to each other’s. He’d never thought it would turn out like this when Harvey had turned up at his place earlier.

Harvey pulled back slightly but kept his eyes locked on Mike’s as he began thrusting faster. Mike made sure to squeeze down occasionally, enjoying the way the older man gritted his teeth when he did.

They changed up the rhythm a number of times but they remained in the missionary position, Harvey now bearing down on Mike and pushing him deep into the mattress. At one point Harvey actually started doing push-ups into Mike’s depths. That was the part Harvey was most proud of, judging from his smirk. Mike rolled his eyes and licked the show-off’s Adam’s apple. The pre-come leaking from Mike’s rigid member became a small stream in the process.

Mike eventually glanced at the clock and realized they’d been fucking for thirty straight (/gay?) minutes. He’d never been pounded that long; rarely had he received for more than five or six minutes before it was all over.

“I told you it was going to be a long fuck, Mike,” Harvey reaffirmed as if reading the man’s mind. “It would have lasted even longer, but I haven’t been able to get off with anyone else since that night. Can you orgasm like this?”

“Harvey, don’t ask a question when you already know the answer.”

“I figured; just checking, rookie. Are you close?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You come first,” Harvey eked out with a pained chuckle. The man was coated in sweat; he looked glorious but on the verge of losing control.

“Such a gentleman,” Mike offered, equally pained to maintain his deadpan. He squeezed as hard as he could when Harvey’s cock passed his prostate.

“That’s…the…idea.” He leaned in for another kiss.

When Harvey’s teeth met Mike’s bottom lip one last time he finally went over the edge. His whole body quivered as his dick fired off thick ropes of come that coated his chest. His ass began to pulsate wildly, throwing the older man into his own orgasm.

“ _Mike!_ ” he screamed, throwing his head back. Mike took both the man’s nipples in his hands and tugged on them while he rubbed the heels of his feet into the dimples of Harvey’s ass. The brunet’s fervent thrusting continued relentlessly.

At that point Mike blacked out.

\-----

“Mike? Mike, are you okay?” Harvey asked nervously. It had only been about half a minute but he was beginning to become concerned. If he hadn’t been so busy staving off his own collapse he would have noticed sooner.

“I’m alright, Harv-ey,” Mike whispered. His eyes were still closed but he was grinning like an idiot.

“I guess I succeeded in jackhammering you stupid.”

“Huh?”

“It’s nothing, Mike. I’m going to pull out now, okay?”

“Leave it in…a little longer?”

“Are you sure? It’s not uncomfortable for you?” Harvey asked, astonished. Most of his partners couldn’t bear the fullness after their orgasms.

“Don’t wanna…be cold.”

“Well, I’m getting soft. It’s going to pop out eventually.”

“So let it pop out. Kiss me,” Mike demanded, and Harvey complied. Mike’s mouth was open and unguarded and everything about the moment felt right. Harvey found he didn’t mind the sweat between their stomachs or the ache in his body from being on top the whole time.

Alright, well, he wasn’t twenty-two anymore. Reluctantly he pulled himself out from Mike, but froze when he looked at the entirety of the scene.

“God, Mike. You’re completely coated with your own spunk,” he informed, running a finger across Mike’s chest. Struck with a desire for an even more depraved sight, he brought the finger to Mike’s mouth. Without any hesitation, Mike licked it, opening his eyes and locking gazes with Harvey as he did.

Fucking hell.

“In my defense, it’s been a while since we last fooled around, and I didn’t get any action in between,” the blond answered as their breathing slowed.

“I wasn’t complaining. Did you have a big breakfast? We could have a quick shower and then lunch?” Harvey proposed.

“Only had Cheerios today. Hungry again.”

“Ugh, you’re such a child. C’mon,” Harvey directed, pulling a reluctant Mike up. “You go get the water running again, and I’ll dispose of the condom.”

“Deal,” Mike agreed as he dizzily headed towards the bathroom.

Harvey tossed the rubber and then grabbed his phone, ordering a stuffed crust pizza. He’d never tried it himself, but Donna had commented on his eating it one night in the library. He went into the bathroom and found Mike under the nozzle. The water running down his body highlighted the definition of his legs. Harvey’s cock twitched, even though he knew Mike probably would be too sore for more so soon.

“Come on in,” Mike taunted with raised eyebrows, sliding open the shower door. Harvey did just that, standing with the younger man in the mist and kissing him gently. They didn’t bother much with scrubbing, instead letting the water do the work of cleaning up the mess.

When they got out, Mike picked up the still damp towels with a grimace. “These might be drier if you hadn’t stopped me from hanging them up.”

Harvey narrowed his eyes and delivered a sharp spank to the little sassmouth. Upon contact, however, Mike buckled and released an enormous gust of wind. Harvey grabbed the younger man’s head just as he tried to hide it in the towel.

“Sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” he asked, chuckling.

“Ummm. That-”

“The only reason you just passed gas was because I forced so much air into your butt while I was fucking you.”

“So you don’t mind it?”

“No, Mike, I’m not ‘into’ farts,” Harvey stated, shaking his head. “But you don’t need to be ashamed of something like that after we’ve just screwed. I take it as a sign of a job well done.”

“I’m just a job to you, huh?” Mike asked with mock disgust.

“You certainly are a piece of work.” Harvey made sure to accentuate the joke with an enormous smirk.

“Ha ha, Harvey. Can we put some clothes on now?” He started to open his mouth with a negative response, but Mike cut him short. “Because I’m still really sensitive and kind of cold. Oh, and you still owe me.”

Harvey studied him for a moment before rolling his eyes. “Fine. Come with me.”

Harvey led Mike to his large dresser and tossed him one of his old gray-and-crimson Harvard sweatshirt and a pair of black silk lounge pants, opting for a navy t-shirt and worn-in jeans for himself. He didn’t admit it to Mike, but seeing the younger man in his clothes pleased his possessive nerve. Harvey got in a little groping while Mike struggled into the pants; they were still making out when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll deal with that,” he announced, going to get his wallet off the nightstand. “Can I trust you to get out plates and some water?” Mike gave him a goofy salute and they both headed out of the bedroom.

Harvey paid the deliveryman and set the box down on the counter. Mike had been busy retrieving the dinnerware and didn’t notice at first.

“I get pizza this time?”

“We get pizza this time. It’s stuffed crust.”

Mike ran over and hugged him, nuzzling his face into Harvey’s neck. He guessed he’d made the right choice.

“I’ve never tried it before today,” Harvey warned.

“How is that even possible?”

“I don’t want to have to undergo a triple bypass.”

“Whatever. You’re going to love it,” Mike pledged. “Oh, I couldn’t find the bottled water.”

“I drink the stuff from the tap,” he informed, pulling out a couple of glasses from the cabinets and filling them.

“…What? No fucking way: Harvey Specter does not drink tap water.”

“Only idiots pour money down the drain on bottled crap,” he continued, handing Mike his water and kissing him on the forehead. “Do you really forgive me for being a bastard?”

“We’re getting there.”

“And you’ll stay the weekend?”

“Umm, let’s see,” Mike thought aloud as he plated his pizza and turned to look at Harvey. “You fucked me silly and then you bought stuffed-crust for lunch. Yeah, I think I’ll stick around.”

“I’m beginning to get the sense you like everything stuffed.”

“It seems you do understand me,” Mike beamed.

“Not really, but I’m trying,” Harvey murmured as he took a slice for himself. “Napkins?”

“Yes,” Mike sang as he sat down. “Y’know, I feel a little weird wearing this shirt, seeing as how I didn’t go there.”

“Don’t. It…helps your cover. Besides, it looks good on you,” Harvey assured once he’d returned with napkins and started gnoshing alongside the other man. “Can I ask you about the day Jessica hired you again?”

“What do you want to know?” Mike asked before gulping down some of his water.

“How did you get from a bungled drug deal to the Pearson Hardman interview room, Mike?”

“Not Mike; that day I was Mohamed Mtembe.” Harvey gave the blond his best incredulous look while he swallowed another bite. “What I told you before was true: there was some foreign national who didn’t show up, and I took his place.”

“Didn’t you look a little out of place in the crowd of applicants?”

“About that: I kind of ran into Wendy’s desk just as she was calling the guy’s name.”

“You were still running from the fuzz and you just happened to stumble upon her?”

“Harvey, did you just call the police ‘the fuzz’?”

“I was born in the Seventies…and I listen to a lot of jazz and funk. Don’t dodge the question.”

Mike rolled his eyes as he took another bite. “I asked one the time and I saw the holster. This is New York: either he was a drug enforcer who was going to kill me or he was a cop. The ‘bellhop’ didn’t know about the events going on at the hotel. So I made my way to the stairwell and booked it to the floor with the interviews. I saw the sign for them on the way in.”

“That’s some quick thinking. I’m glad you managed to get out of that, though. I’d have never met you if you hadn’t,” Harvey thought aloud.

“Harvey Specter, do you have feelings for me already?” Mike asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Most certainly not. I’m sure Donna thinks so, though.”

“It must have sucked royally not having her around,” Mike commented, licking some of the remaining tomato sauce off the crust. The brat probably had no idea how dirty he looked when he did that.

“I really didn’t notice. It was nothing worse than anything I’ve endured at Pearson Hardman.”

“Are you referring to all your screw-ups as an associate? Jessica told me about those, bee-tee-dubs.”

“I don’t make screw-ups at work, Mike. Everything Jessica told you about me was nothing but an uncorroborated and fanciful accusation. And since you’re a fake lawyer, you should know better than to build a case on conjecture.”

“Uh-huh. She said you were tem-pera-men-tal,” Mike tormented, drawing out the last word syllable by syllable. Harvey would need to have a talk with Jessica about dredging up the past.

“If I let you pick out a movie from my Netflix queue will you stop hurling calumnies at me?”

“Everyone has Netflix, Harvey. Even I have Netflix.”

“Yes, but Comcast doesn’t fuck with my internet speed because they know I could bankrupt them in an afternoon.”

Mike chewed on the last bit of crust on his plate and thought it over. “Will you let me eat on the couch?”

“As long as you don’t get crumbs everywhere. I’m not a cleanliness Nazi, Mike. This,” he explained, gesturing to the spotless kitchen, “is mostly the work of my housekeeper, Uli.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Okay, so I’m a little fastidious about my appearance at work. And I’m fairly zealous about avoiding clutter. And I can’t stand the sight of dirty laundry piling up-”

“Cleanliness Nazi.”

“Mike, that coffee shop I took you to last week – I used to live two blocks further uptown from there in an apartment not so unlike yours.”

Mike’s subsequent shock was a sight to behold.

“There’s a lot about you I want to learn. But for now, movie time,” Mike declared, grabbing another two slices of pizza and heading for the living room.

They eventually settled on _300_. Harvey hadn’t seen it and Mike assured him it would be perfect: mindless enough that they could chat and eat, and violent enough that it would pull their attention back in later.

“The acting in this is dreadful. Even the later _Star Trek_ movies were better than this drek,” Harvey complained after an hour.

“Yes, but it’s eminently quotable.”

“Hmmm,” Harvey muttered as he got up.

“Something wrong?” Mike asked, the concern obvious in his voice.

“Nothing to worry about, rookie. I just realized I should change the sheets since they’re probably still gross from earlier. And lest you worry – that’s a mess I don’t mind…too much.”

“You sweat more than me.”

“That’s because I was doing most of the work.”

“Bottom shaming.”

“Just because I was an ass earlier doesn’t mean there won’t be repercussions for impudence,” Harvey decided, leaning over to swat Mike. “Let me change the sheets and we can watch the last bit of this ‘movie’. After that, maybe a nap?”

“Capital idea,” Mike concurred, thrusting his index finger skywards.

Once they’d done that and then gone through the usual rituals (teeth and contacts) they plopped down on the fresh bedding. Harvey happily disrobed Mike and watched him burrow his nude form beneath the covers. The older man stripped off himself and joined him. This time, he noted, Mike curled right up into him, and Harvey didn’t mind the extra heat one bit.

\-----

Mike awoke later that day to a wonderful, distantly familiar sensation. He could tell from his fatigue that he hadn’t slept all that long, but when he opened his eyes and saw Harvey sucking his half-hard cock he became fully awake.

“Harvey, I don’t mind being woken by fellatio, but couldn’t this wait?”

“Nope. It’s already 7:30, rookie, and I’m getting you ready for round two,” he fired off before refilling his mouth with five inches of Mike. Goddamn that man was good at giving head.

“My ass is still a little sore,” Mike warned between soft moans.

“And you say I’m egotistical. I wasn’t talking about me fucking you, Mike,” Harvey corrected as he hopped off the bed and made for the bathroom.

It wasn’t until he’d returned with a different tub of silicone lube that Mike figured out what he’d meant. “You mean you want me to-”

“Yes. And I know you’re still exhausted, which is perfect. Here’s the rule, Mike: you don’t get to move your arms or legs. I’ll restrain them if it becomes necessary.”

“Wait, then how am I supposed to-”

“I’m going for a ride this evening, Mike, and you’re the car with bad shocks.”

“Oh, God.”

“Yeah, people sometimes call me that. Oh, and I already took care of prepping myself. Though, if you’d like to rim me a little…”

“Get up here and sit on my face, Harvey,” Mike ordered as soon as the invitation had been given.

Harvey grinned and did as he was told.

Mike got right to work, sliding his tongue along Harvey’s crack and then darting it into his hole. The other man smelled clean and there wasn’t the salty taste of sweat like he’d been expecting. Mike made sure to take full advantage of his five o’clock shadow, rubbing it along the sides of Harvey’s cheeks while he ate him out. The man’s enthusiastic moans let Mike know he enjoyed that contrast quite a bit.

“Mmmm, Mike. You’re awfully good at that,” the older man praised as he continued to slicken Mike’s arousal.

“You’re not the only one with practice, Harvey,” Mike answered. He took the opportunity to give the older man’s gluteus a number of sharp spanks. There wasn’t any comment, but he figured Harvey enjoyed that, too.

They continued on like that for a while, Harvey raising and lowering his rear and Mike eventually adding in a couple of fingers. Harvey slid him the lube and he inserted first one and then two fingers. When he found the man’s prostate Harvey seized up and let out a delicious groan.

“Alright, Mike, enough of that,” Harvey assessed, turning to kiss away Mike’s whining. “I need to take you for a test drive.”

Mike should have been disgusted with the automobile metaphor. Was Harvey a car guy, too? But the childish grin on the older man’s face and the way he hopped around the bed to grab a condom and roll it on him let Mike know he was experiencing a rare glimpse of unguarded Harvey.

“Can I trust you to keep your arms still?”

“No, probably not. I get pretty crazy when I’m inside someone,” Mike admitted.

Harvey went to the nightstand and removed a pair of velvet-lined handcuffs from underneath the underwear. He took Mike’s hands and placed them against the headboard, threading the cuffs through the slats and securing the younger man’s arms. Then he moved towards the middle of the bed and made a final assessment.

“Ready, Mike?” he asked as he pointed Mike’s cock bolt upright and squatted over it.

“Yeah. The ‘dealership’ is giving you the all clear.”

Harvey smirked and slowly lowered himself onto the erection. Mike was mesmerized, watching his arousal disappear inside Harvey’s smooth, tanned ass. The older man scrunched his face and paused at the midpoint.

“Too big for you, Harvey?”

“Never. Just need to take a breath.”

“There’s no rush. Relax and then take the rest inside you,” he assured. He’d have rubbed the older man’s thighs to comfort him if he weren’t handcuffed.

“How much is left? Am I nearly there?”

“Nope. Well, you’re about halfway down.”

“Fucking hell, Mike. How does a skinny White boy like you have such a long prick?”

“Y’know, most of my other lays didn’t have this much trouble,” Mike announced with a grin.

At that Harvey narrowed his eyes and pushed himself down further. They both needed to suck in their breath once the brunet bottomed out.

“Goddamn. So fucking full,” Harvey muttered as he carefully adjusted his legs from a squat to a straddle. When he adjusted his right leg Mike’s cock brushed against something and the older man screamed.

“Do you like being full with my cock, Harvey? How does it feel smashed up against your prostate?”

“C’mon, Mike,” the older man scoffed. “I let you inside me once and you become butch all of a sudden.”

“That’s because even though you’re in control, I’m in charge,” Mike claimed, flicking his cock forward inside Harvey. Unfortunately, the startled moan didn’t quite match the earlier outburst.

“Mike, I’ve got some bad news for you. You’re not the only one who does Kegels,” Harvey sneered.

Mike zoned out for the next half-minute. When he came back Harvey was smirking and shaking his head at him. Harvey’s ass had closed around his cock like a vacuum. The pleasure was immeasurable, even long after he’d released the vice grip.

“Good boy. I’m going to teach you to behave,” Harvey warned as he continued his careful up and down movement. Mike tried to thrust but Harvey pinned his body to the bed with his weight. “Uh-uh. I’ll cuff your ankles, too, if I have to do that. Just lie back and let me enjoy myself. Don’t worry – I’m looking forward to bringing you to orgasm,” Harvey promised. “But I’ll do that as slowly as I wish.”

“Fuck, Harvey. Would you at least speed up a little, please?”

“You’re learning manners, but no. I like this pace and I’m the driver, remember?”

“Damnit. I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Quit complaining,” Harvey tutted as he squeezed down on Mike’s cock again.

“Ahhfwackahhhgahd.”

“Your words are music to my ears, rookie.” Harvey leaned down and began kissing Mike, who, desperate for more, reciprocated eagerly. They continued on like that for ten minutes or so before Harvey finally picked up the pace.

“Are you getting closer, Mike?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“I have your giant penis pounding into my prostate at thirty strokes a minute. What do you think?”

“Would you care to find out how much RPM I could produce if you uncuffed me?”

“Nope.”

Despite what they’d said, this new rhythm ended up lasting longer than the first one, probably fifteen minutes. It felt like hours, though, and Mike took the time to really ingrain the image of a sweat-damp Harvey raising and lowering himself on Mike’s cock. The man’s usual upward do was gone, replaced by a lot of strands sticking to his forehead. He was panting ever so slightly, an observation that set some much-needed tingling to Mike’s cock.

“If you want you can start thrusting back now.”

Harvey didn’t need to say it twice. Mike pulled his legs up to cradle Harvey and began pulling out and slamming in in time with the older man. Finally, there was enough friction and movement and Mike felt orgasm nearing.

Harvey began to jack himself, stroking the foreskin back and forth across his purplish-red glans. Moans, starting quietly and growing in volume, escaped his lips. The ass clenches became more random, both in frequency and duration. Finally, Harvey locked eyes with Mike and began ejaculating.

“Oh, fuck Mike. Don’t stop fucking me. Keep going,” Harvey groaned as come covered the younger man’s chest. This sight, he decided, would need to be locked up in his mind. It had to be, because as soon as he witnessed it he exploded inside the brunet, his vision going from white to black to some kind of blueish-purplish glitter.

“ _Harvey_ ,” he moaned until the sensation began to abate.

“So, are you still upset at me for waking you?” Harvey asked as he kissed Mike.

“Hell no. You can do that anytime you want. But we will need to talk about your fetish for keeping me immobile.”

“That’s not a fetish, Mike. I meant what I said about hooking up with young guys: I like my sex to last, and I don’t trust you not to rush it just yet.”

“Oh.”

“Stop feeling guilty and kiss me. I just got fucked by an elephant and I need aftercare.”

Mike obeyed and for the next few moments they made out, the younger man’s dick still buried inside Harvey. Eventually Harvey pulled back and smiled down at him.

“Would you like me to uncuff you?”

“Yes, please.”

“See what I mean about fucking manners into you? Here.” He grabbed the key and unlocked one of the cuffs. He had to shift to reach the other one and he squeezed down on Mike’s cock at a new angle.

Crap. Mike had forgotten to mention that.

He whipped the cuffs through the hole with the still-locked hand and slammed Harvey down back onto him. The older man looked shocked, but Mike couldn’t help himself. He furiously thrust upward into Harvey’s tight heat and felt himself rapidly approaching a second orgasm.

“Harvey, goddamn Harvey. Gonna get it again, fucking fuckity fuck!”

With that outburst he leapt off the edge and shook hard enough to rattle the bed. His hands dragged across Harvey’s back and his toes curled and his teeth locked together. Of course the older man would be capable of tapping into Mike’s other hidden talent.

“Jesus, Mike,” Harvey judged a few moments after that. “Not that I mind, but what the hell?”

“I told you I go a little nuts when I’m inside someone. It’s especially pronounced after I’ve come. Sudden jerky movements can bring me right back to the edge,” Mike divulged with a little shame. “I guess I’m overly sensitized.”

Harvey chuckled and leaned in for another kiss. “That is not a problem. But you do realize what this means, don’t you?”

“No. What?”

“I’ve just found your Achilles heel.”

“Shit.”

“That’s right. Now tell me: am I going to be able to dismount sometime in the next half hour?”

“You can slide off whenever, but go slow and steady, okay?”

“Got it,” Harvey replied as he carefully pulled off. Mike reddened as he looked down, and the older man must have picked up on it. “What’s wrong, rookie?”

“Don’t be angry, Harvey-”

“Just tell me what it is.”

“Uhh…the condom broke.”

“Huh?” the older man grunted, turning his head to check what Mike could already see: come leaking out of his ass down onto the broken condom, the torn bits of which were caught around the flare of his glans.

It was yet another image Mike would need to bury.

“Congratulations, Mike. You just inaugurated the ‘Guys Who’ve Inseminated Harvey Specter’ club.”

“Fuck, Harvey. Watch what you say.”

“Why? Are you going to come again?” he taunted before turning back to take another look at the mess. “I have a feeling I’m going to be washing the sheets a lot more frequently from now on.”

“You don't have Uli handle that?”

“I have some decency, Mike. Having a housekeeper is an arrangement, and arrangements run on mutual respect. Including this one,” he informed, wrapping a hand underneath Mike’s head and kissing him.

“Harvey?”

“Yes?”

“I’d feel extremely respected right now if we slept in until late tomorrow morning.”

“Sure thing, Mike.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who have waited patiently for this story to earn its ‘E’ rating, there you go. I realize some of the discussion of preparation and aftermath might have been a little bit TMI, but I wanted to craft a scene that acknowledged the less glamorous parts of buttsex. Honestly, a single high school sex ed class about back door deliveries would have saved me a whole lot of embarrassment.
> 
> Fun fact: practically all gay men have the same bright red enema bulb. You’d think with a market like that there’d be one for every color of the rainbow and another five that were metallic glitter, but alas, no.


	12. Shagathon: Episode Two: The Return of Picard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little more smut. If you're avoiding such material, steer clear of this chapter, too.
> 
> Oh, and a reminder: practice safe sex in real life. Even in at a time where we're (seemingly) close to finding a cure for HIV, there are still other threats such as antibiotic-resistant, CRE, and the oldies such as syphilis and chlamydia. Mike and Harvey are characters in a fictional universe, so they don't have to worry about each other in that regard, but you shouldn't be so willing to trust anyone in our world.

Oddly, Mike woke first the next day. Well, it wasn’t so odd – Mike’s aching stomach demanded food, and combined with the soreness of the rest of his body it served as a silent alarm.

As he opened his eyes, the sleeping form of Harvey came into focus. The older man lay immediately to Mike’s right; he’d squeezed his solid abdomen against the blond’s side, slinging his arm possessively across Mike’s chest. There was a placid smile on Harvey’s face beneath uncharacteristically messy hair. The younger man remained still for a moment, committing the image to memory.

Mike’s hunger could not be overcome with fond thoughts alone, though, so he carefully slid out of Harvey’s clutches. He turned and caught the time on the nightstand clock: 12:22 PM. No wonder his body was so desperate for nourishment. Spying the lounge pants he’d worn the day before, he walked over to the chair they were draped over and tugged them on. He opted not to bother with the shirt.

They’d cleaned up after their evening romp, so at least he didn’t need to worry about bathing. He rid himself of the water he’d had and looked himself over in the mirror as he quietly washed his hands. He matted down the more anarchic strands of more-or-less JBF hair and shook the kinks out of his neck.

It was only then that Mike realized he’d never fully explored Harvey’s apartment. He’d seen most of it, but there was still an entire hallway he hadn’t been down yet. He weighed his options and checked on Harvey, who was still completely conked out. Mike decided to risk it, walking out into the living room, past the fireplace (seriously?) and towards the terra incognita.

The younger man opened the left door first, discovering a home office. Just like everything else about Harvey’s condo, it was disturbingly neat; there wasn’t any clutter at all – not even a loose file or a single tchotchke. Moreover, not one speck of dust lay on any of the surfaces. Mike grew more worried by the second that Uli had been a Stasi enforcer in a past life.

The blond closed that door and opened the other one, revealing a facetiously boring guest bedroom. Facetious because as Mike stepped inside and turned around, he caught the photographs covering the wall on which the door stood. Some were fairly recent, with Harvey not looking much different than he did now. But others were clearly quite old.

Mike stopped dead when he caught one in the corner. Two blond boys were sitting in the stands of the old Yankees Stadium. He caught the pattern of the display and saw a young Harvey grow before his eyes: a Christmas photo of Harvey sitting on his father’s (Mike guessed) lap, a high school photo (complete with acne), Harvey in crimson with shaggy locks, and Harvey and Donna sitting across from Jessica at a diner.

The managing partner hadn’t aged a day – could she be a vampire?

“Snooping, are we?” Harvey asked from behind, jolting Mike sideways. The man was stark naked but for a pair of metal-framed rectangular glasses.

“How the hell did you do that?”

“You’ll just have to figure it out on your own. Are you as hungry as I am?” he asked, wrapping his arms around Mike’s torso.

“At least. Probably more so.”

“Good. Come with me to the kitchen,” he said, pulling Mike along. “I guess I should have given you the grand tour, huh?” he asked, stopping to shut the door once they’d left the bedroom.

“I was just curious.”

“You really do sound like a lawyer sometimes,” Harvey joked, resuming the journey.

“I am a lawyer, as far as almost everyone is concerned,” Mike countered lightly.

Harvey pushed him against the kitchen counter and kissed him roughly. “Too bad you can’t lie with me. Name five professors at Harvard, Mike.” The younger man grinned evilly, opening his mouth only to be cut off as Harvey revised his request. “I keep forgetting your brainpower. Hmm, tell me how much it cost to do a load of laundry in the dorms.”

“Law students don’t have to live in the dorms, Harvey.”

“They do when they don’t have any money, rookie,” Harvey replied, opening the fridge and poking around. “BLTs sound good?”

“Yeah. Wait, you mean the great Harvey Specter was once a pauper?”

“Scandalous, isn’t it?” Harvey jested as started passing ingredients to Mike. “I didn’t live in West Harlem because it was the hip place to be. Besides, with a musician for a father and a deadbeat mo…”

He stopped abruptly.

“Harvey, I didn’t mean to…I don’t want to force you to talk about things that make you uncomfortable.”

Harvey didn’t respond for a while, instead plucking the remaining condiments and snatching plates and a knife from the cabinets. “It’s silly, isn’t it? So many years on now and it still…”

Mike carefully placed a hand on the man’s back, rubbing him gently.

“How about this? Let’s tell each other the things we’re not okay with discussing right now.”

“You’re willing to let me do that? You don’t mind the hypocrisy of you telling me your secret and me walling things off?”

“I didn’t say it would be forever. And there are things that I’m not ready to deal with now myself. Like my own parents,” Mike began, trying to prevent their faces from surfacing in his mind.

“Okay. Our parents are off-limits. I don’t want to go any further into my past with Scottie, either. Or my time at the DA’s office.”

“Granted. And I don’t want to talk about Trevor. I haven’t brought him up by name yet with you, and beyond this, I hope I won’t.”

“Deal,” Harvey said, kissing him. “Can a hypocrite make a request?”

“What?”

“Can you ditch these?” he asked, tugging at the waistband of the pants.

“You really like us being naked in here, don’t you?”

“Humor me for the weekend. I worked hard for this,” he stated, gesturing to the apartment. “I want to enjoy it. Oh, and after you toss them on the chair with the rest of the clothes could you give me a hand and rinse the lettuce?”

“Okay, Harv,” Mike answered as he made his way back to the bedroom.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s just Harvey. I don’t like being called Harv.”

“Oh, my bad,” he offered, shucking off the pants and hurrying back to the kitchen.

“No, it’s no big deal.”

“Alright, well in that case, can I request that you not call me Mikey? There are personal reasons.”

“Mike suits you better, anyway,” Harvey decided, handing the head of lettuce to him.

\-----

“Harvey? It’s kind of unfair how good of a chef you are. This bacon is insanely crispy,” Mike complimented after he’d swallowed another enormous bite of his sandwich.

“I like how easy to please you are,” Harvey replied, clicking through the menus on his DVR to get to the Yankees game from the previous evening. Mike was seriously throwing off his schedule, not that he minded terribly.

“Oh, that’s my best quality? I’m a low-maintenance lay?”

Harvey turned to face Mike at that, finding the younger man looking more than a tad embarrassed. “Mike, we should talk.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Tough,” he dismissed, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t go to all the trouble of groveling to Donna and chasing you down just so I could use you as a pump ‘n dump and then act like nothing happened. When this weekend is over, I want you to think about whether or not you’ve really forgiven me and if you’d be willing to make this a regular thing.”

“What if I already know I want this?”

“You should take your time before you give me an answer, Mike. Believe me, I’m quite familiar with the pitfalls of rash decisions.”

“Harvey, I don’t know exactly what we have is, but I know I don’t want it to end on Sunday night,” Mike reiterated, this time a tad petulantly. Harvey pulled the younger man over so that his butt was sandwiched between the older man’s two thighs, his head and legs hanging off perpendicular to the older man.

“Mike, agreeing to this means you’d have to take on another secret. And you wouldn’t be holding it back from just anyone: you’d have to keep it hidden from Jessica. Are you prepared to do that?”

“Do you think you would have figured out that I didn’t go to Harvard if I hadn’t told you?” Mike inquired with a smirk.

“You can pull that off because you’re eidetic, but we both know that you’re more emotional than everyone at the firm, barring some of the receptionists.”

“Okay. No improper contact or outward displays of emotion at work. Got it.”

“I’d reserve the right to stop by your cubicle and tease you, plus the occasional text message,” Harvey tossed in flatly.

“Harvey, that’s not fair at all! It’s not like I can just pop into your office whenever I please.”

“You’ll have to put up with it, Mike. I’m a controlling bastard sometimes and you need to accept that you can’t change me. Besides, it’s not like spending weekends with me wouldn’t come with some benefits,” Harvey hinted, nodding to the half-eaten sandwich.

“You’re bribing me into accepting a double-standard with food?” Mike asked, an eyebrow nearly hitting his hairline.

“You know perfectly well my talents extend beyond the kitchen and into the bedroom. There, and the elevator, the bathroom, the living room, the balcony,” Harvey listed on his fingers, “and maybe even back to the kitchen.”

The frown on Mike’s face broadcast that he was not amused, but Harvey hadn’t missed the repeated twitches of the younger man’s cock. Finally a smile broke through on the face below him as a hand playfully slapped the older man on the cheek.

“You ass. Fine, you get to be a pest at the office. But this contract is subject to renegotiation if it becomes excessive.”

Harvey rolled his eyes at that.

“I don’t think I need to tell you this, but work takes priority. That goes both ways, though – if you needed to get something done and you had to cancel on me, you shouldn’t feel bad about it,” he warned to the blond.

Mike nodded, but he was clearly thinking about something else, hesitating over it. “Can we discuss exclusivity?” he offered after a moment of silence.

“That’s definitely something you should think about more before we set things in stone.”

Mike nodded but continued to pry anyway. “What I meant was…well, I’m mostly gay, but I know that you’re attracted-”

“Mike, I’m bisexual. That doesn’t mean I need to have fish _and_ hotdogs, it just means that I can appreciate both.”

“Gross. Did you just equate this,” Mike began as he shook his half-hard cock, “with a hotdog?”

“Yup. It’s part of being an ass,” Harvey explained, dodging another playful slap. “But you know, sometimes I order a hotdog dragged through the garden only to lick off all the condiments before I get back to the office,” he continued, dropping his voice to a near-whisper.

Mike shuddered, right on cue. “So if I wanted, it would be just the two of us?”

“I don’t want to phaser your sex life so soon. We can hash that out some other time, assuming you agree to our arrangement in the first place.”

“Umm, that sounds good. But just so you know, you’re not exactly facing competition for ‘best lay ever’ status with me. And if you make another joke about me being easy to please, so help me, I’ll-”

“Mike, you medaled in my book, too,” Harvey silenced Mike, adding a light kiss for emphasis.

“Oh.”

“There’s a more delicate issue we need to discuss if we get involved. I need you to tell me about-”

“You want to know about the safeguards I’ve got for my secret and what contingencies I have with Jessica.”

“Bingo. You really are a smartypants.”

“I’m in the digital database and I’ve got a diploma. Don’t ask me how; Jessica took care of everything.”

“Jesus. Leave it to her to know how to do that. What about physical records and memberships?”

“I don’t have a file in the official archives yet, but I’m getting my Harvard Club membership card next week. She vouched for me at the shindig because I didn’t have one.”

“And the other memberships?”

“Huh?”

“This is exactly why I’m asking,” Harvey sighed. “Records are only half of what you should be worried about. There are New York Bar Association gatherings, the LGBT lawyers subset of that, various societies of lawyers, and the monthly gatherings of associates at bars in Midtown, just to name a few. You’ll need as many people as possible to assume you’re one of them to make any potential allegations to the contrary seem outlandish.”

Mike gave him a stunned look.

“You’re good with information on pages, Mike, but you need someone to look out for you with the socializing. Maybe Jessica was going to get on your case about this or maybe not; either way, I’m going to help.”

“Harvey, you-”

“Yes, I do. You’re putting the whole firm at risk, not just yourself and Jessica. I became liable when I didn’t report you as soon as you told me,” Harvey lectured. “But part of me doesn’t mind this. Consider this the flip side of being a controlling bastard, Mike.”

“Thanks…I guess. So you wouldn’t mind if I needed to take a Friday night to attend one of those parties?”

“Something like that, dork. The only reason I showed up at the one this week was because you ostracized me from my own network,” Harvey answered, mussing up Mike’s hair. (That was something he’d be doing a lot more of from now on.) “You should also try to form closer working relationships with more of the associates than just Harold.”

“But they’re assho-”

“I didn’t say you had to be friends with them. Louis and I worked together in the bullpen, and it’s because I took the time to get to know him that he knows just how badly I can screw with him today. Why do you think he’s always so jittery around my office? Here’s a hint: it’s not just because Donna can send him packing with a flip of her hair.”

“You’re giving me so much advice, Harvey. You almost sound like my fairy godmother.”

“Correction: you’re a super-dork.”

“Who made the comment about phasering my sex life?”

“Touché,” Harvey allowed as he leaned for another deep kiss. “I don’t know if that’s everything, but it should do for now. There’s one thing I really need to find out about you, though, if we’re going to spend more time with each other.”

“What?”

“Mike, you like baseball, right?”

“Yeah.”

“…Mets or Yankees?” Harvey asked warily.

“Yankees. Grammy wouldn’t let me support the Mets; she calls them a poor man’s replacement for the Dodgers.”

“Smart woman,” Harvey assessed, glad to have dodged a bullet.

“But it gets a little boring when you’re not there in person.”

“I have ways of taking care of that, Mike,” Harvey cooed as he pressed the final button and the game began. “Do you know what edgeball is?”

“I have a feeling I’m about to find out.”

“Good answer. For now, just sit up in front of me,” Harvey ordered as he guided the younger man with his hands. “Right, like that. Now lean back onto me.”

“Harvey, your cock-”

“It’s only going to get harder, Mike, but I’m in control. Let me do all the work and just watch the game, okay? Can you be a good boy for me?” he asked, his mouth hovering against the shell of the blond’s ear.

Harvey didn’t begin in earnest immediately, instead letting the Mike relax. At the bottom of the first inning he began rubbing his hands across the younger man’s arms and torso. He pinched a nipple and twisted it until he heard a moan. His other hand wrapped around the younger man’s cock and stroked it once, abandoning it to run along the inside of those wonderful thighs.

After the second out at the top of the third he inserted a finger in Mike’s mouth and let him suck on it until the next hit. He removed it and used the saliva to rub lazy circles around the blond’s tight hole, palming his balls as he did. With his other hand, Harvey continued a light massage of Mike’s abdomen, grazing erect nipples and the sensitive skin around his clavicle. The older man’s own cock pressed into the blond’s lumbar region, leaking precome expectantly.

When Mike began to tense Harvey took the younger man’s cock and squeezed it roughly at the base, pushing his thumb sharply into his perineum for good measure. Once Mike had calmed he resumed the pleasuring.

“Harvey,” Mike groaned at the bottom of the sixth.

“Yes, rookie?”

“Is this going to last the whole game?”

“Just wait until the seventh inning stretch. Is your ass still sore?”

“It was, but not so much anymore. What do you have planned?”

“Nosey little brat. Just enjoy the game and leave that to me.”

At the appointed time Harvey paused the recording and got up from the couch, heading into the bedroom. He’d stuffed the bottom drawer of his dresser with all sorts of toys for occasions like this, and even he didn’t know exactly which one he wanted to use on Mike. When his eyes caught the bright pink vibrator (a gag gift from Marcus after coming out), though, he snatched it out. He also grabbed the tube of water-based lube, condoms, and a towel.

“Up,” he ordered and Mike obeyed. He carefully laid the towel over the leather and then took his seat, spreading his legs to give Mike room in front again. “Lift up and hover for a bit.”

He poured the lubricant over the toy, being sure to warm it up with some friction. Then he inserted two well-lubed fingers into Mike’s ass, not bothering to take his time for this. He was too excited to see and hear Mike’s reaction, and he definitely wanted to test the younger man’s limits.

“I’m nice and loose now, Harvey.”

“Good. I’ll guide you back down,” he assured, placing a hand on Mike’s back and easing him onto the toy. Sure enough, the man’s ass enveloped it and took it all in one fluid motion. “Now, unpause the game. My hands are too messy to use the remote.”

Harvey waited until they’d reached the eighth inning before he started up the vibrator, causing Mike to flail his limbs about wildly and grind against the older manm's embrace. The blond’s response pushed Harvey right to the edge, the moaning and writhing unbearably sexy.

“Oh fuck, Harvey. You damned, evil bastard.”

“Remember, Mike, you don’t get to come until I allow it. This is to train your endurance.”

And his own, it seemed.

“I can’t hold out for much longer.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Harvey said, seizing the base of the younger man’s cock again and applying more pressure to his perineum. “Just one-and-a-half innings left, Mike.”

“Unghhh.”

The Yankees were a distant thought for the older man by now. They hadn’t scored since a couple of double home runs in the fourth and probably wouldn’t even need to send in their finisher to guard their lead. Mike, however, was everywhere. His legs were wrapped around Harvey’s and rubbing on the leather, and his hands were balled up in tight fists at Harvey’s hips. He cursed straight through the rest of the game, at one point switching over into Spanish and then a language Harvey couldn’t place – Russian, maybe.

Harvey was having just as much trouble, even if he wasn’t verbalizing it. He was glad he’d thought of the towel, as copious amounts of lube and precome dripped down his erection. It was jealous of the vibrator, and the brunet wasn’t sure if he could last until the end of the game before assisting in the inevitable ouster.

_“And the Yankees take it in an easy win. They’ll head off to-”_

Finally.

“Mike, sit up,” he commanded before reaching out to switch off the vibrator and remove it.

“Harvey, I need-”

“I need it, too. Do you think you can take it right away?” he asked, tearing a condom wrapper and unrolling its contents on his shaft.

Mike’s only response was to reach behind himself and point Harvey’s cock upward, sheathing it with his body. Unlike the previous day, it went in painlessly and Mike began bouncing on it almost immediately. Goddamn.

“That’s it, Mike. Ride me.”

“And you complain about guys getting macho.”

“I complain about you getting macho. Big…difference…” he huffed, gawking at how snugly his cock slid in and out of the other man’s hole.

“Feels good – so much better than that vibrator. Not gonna last long, though.”

“That’s okay, rookie. But do me a favor: do you think you can turn around? I want to see your face.”

Mike stood up and about-faced. Harvey pulled him back up to the couch, taking the moment to steal a long kiss. He leaned back and waited for the younger man to lower himself again, but the blond paused.

“Is there a problem?”

“Harvey, you said yesterday that we’re both clean…”

“Mike, what are you asking?”

“I want this…without the condom.”

“Jesus, are you sure?

“Yes.”

“We should wait. It’s only our third time and-”

“It already happened last night when you were riding me. Please, Harvey; I want to ride you bareback.”

Harvey closed his eyes and inhaled, turning the request over in his brain. After a bit, he opened them up and peered at the younger man’s face one final time. He moved his hand to the base of the condom but Mike stopped him.

“No. Let me do it.”

Harvey watched as the blond rolled the latex barrier back up his shaft, muttering curses under his breath. When he’d retracted it to the glans, Mike yanked the condom off completely and tossed it across the room, using his other hand to line up the member. The younger man gave a final licentious grin and impaled himself.

“Fucking hell, Mike. I’m not going to last inside you for very long,” Harvey moaned, needing to remind himself to breathe. “Do you want me to push you off when I’m about to-”

“Harvey, don’t ask a question if you already know the answer.”

They lasted maybe a couple of minutes of rapid pounding before Mike lost it, jacking himself empty onto Harvey’s chest. The older man followed, pulling the younger man all the way down to his balls as he started to shake with release. His toes curled through the rug and he clawed at blond’s back and he growled like a wild animal through it all. When the waves of pleasure were still just beginning to abate Mike bent down and kissed him with a lot of tongue.

“That was-”

“-unbelievable,” Harvey finished, still shivering.

“No regrets?”

“No, but I think we just signed off on the exclusivity clause,” he assessed, carefully pushing the younger man up and off of him. When his come began to spill out of the blond’s ass, Harvey threw his head back to avoid complete sensory overload. Mike didn’t back off, though, instead nibbling and sucking on Harvey’s collarbone.

It was damn near perfect.

“Okay, enough of that,” he commanded. “So, if we agree to do this regularly, do you think you’ll want to watch baseball with me again?”

“If we don’t I’ll consider you sadistic.”

“I might also take you to see the real thing sometime. I have season tickets for a pair of seats in the stands.”

“You don’t want to shell out enough for a suite? Wait, let me guess – you prefer the authentic experience,” Mike guessed.

“Shut up and kiss me some more, smartypants, and maybe I’ll indulge your come play fetish.”

\-----

“We’re going out to eat tonight,” Harvey announced as they stepped out of the shower an hour later.

“I think I’ll need to shave, then,” Mike said, examining his stubbly face in the mirror. “I forgot my razor; can I borrow one?”

“You think so little of me sometimes, Mike,” Harvey replied, dropping the towel and getting down on all fours to search around the cabinet that had initially housed Mike’s toothbrush.

Mike needed to find more reasons for Harvey to do that, he noted.

“Here,” Harvey said once he’d stood back up. It was a brand new red manual with a full set of replacement blades. He set it down on the bathroom counter next to his own blue model. Mike watched as he retrieved the shaving cream with a flip in his chest. “Sit on the counter, rookie.”

“Sure,” Mike said, doing as he was told. Harvey dabbed the cream onto Mike’s face with one of those old-fashioned barber’s brushes. He then took the razor and methodically went about shaving Mike’s face, stopping occasionally to rinse it clean. Once completed he helped Mike to his feet so they could both admire his handiwork.

“I was against the scruff until you showed me how nice it can be for rimming. Still, clean-shaven suits you better,” Harvey commented as he began applying shaving cream to his own face. Mike watched in dumb fascination as Harvey repeated the process on himself. When he’d finished as well the older man snuck a kiss.

“Much better,” he assessed as they pulled away. “Don’t get used to that, Mike.” The older man moved down the counter and inserted his contacts, shaking his butt in Mike’s direction to punctuate the warning.

“Okay. But you have to admit that was pretty sweet thing for an ass to do.”

“Hmph. I will not,” Harvey scoffed as he led the way into the bedroom.

“Wait, what am I going to wear? Do you want me to pull on my suit?” Mike inquired, suddenly aware of his limited options.

“Just wear what you had on when we came over here last night. It’s not a fancy place.”

“You realize that just makes me need to know where exactly we’re headed, right?”

“Power down your imagination and get dressed,” Harvey directed as he pulled a pair of black CKs from his nightstand.

“Do you mind if I go commando?” Mike asked, not wanting to attempt a second usage of his white briefs.

“With that baseball bat between your legs? Yes, I do,” Harvey scolded, tossing him an identical pair of underwear. “See if that fits.” Mike pulled it up and Harvey gave a pleased nod. They finished dressing, Mike in his t-shirt and jeans and the older man in black trousers and a navy Henley with the sleeves scrunched up to his elbow.

They rounded up their phones (Harvey remembered where Mike had left his), wallets, and other various necessities and headed off to the street. When Mike started to flag down a cab, the doorman stopped him with a laugh and then took over the job. The older man shook his head and made a passing remark about the benefits of decent housing while they waited.

The two men hopped in the first cab that stopped and Harvey gave the driver directions for the West Village. Mike had learned to expect just about anything from him by now, but was still shocked when they arrived in front of a rather generic pub grub restaurant.

“I go to plenty of upscale places with clients, Mike; I save the simple stuff for myself,” he explained as they stepped inside and seated themselves. “Besides, we need to be careful of being seen and I don’t think Pearson Hardman associates would come in here. Do your peers throw all the money we give them away on meaningless crap?”

“Yup,” he answered, taking a menu from Harvey.

“Then it’s the same as when I was in the pool.”

“Can we talk about that?”

“I didn’t mark it as off-limits, rookie,” was the only response from behind the black vinyl booklet.

“So you really messed up when you were a rookie?”

“I wasn’t a real rookie, considering my years at the DA’s office – I just didn’t remember all the civil stuff perfectly after so long in criminal. There was an _adjustment period_ – that’s all.”

Harvey placed one of his hands on Mike’s thigh under the table, patting it gently. The server took their orders and disappeared.

“Was that before or after Jessica took power with what’s his name? Wait, who is Hardman, anyway, and why haven’t I met him yet?”

“It was after that. And I hope you never have to find out anything about Daniel Hardman. The only good thing that man ever did was help Jessica get her name on the door.”

“If he’s that bad then why is his name still a part of the firm’s?”

“It’s complicated. And it would sound weird if it was just ‘Pearson’.”

“Well, they could change it to ‘Jessica’s Firm’. It’s like everyone with a JD knows her.”

“With good reason,” Harvey clarified, leaning in to add, “I’ll only say this once, so listen up: Jessica’s the best. Maybe even better than me.”

“You must be dying on the inside for having confessed that.”

“World’s smallest violin and everything,” Harvey joked as their beers came out. “We’ve got another appointment after this, so we’ll need to eat fairly quickly.”

“I get the feeling you’re not going to tell me any of your plans for our time together, are you?”

“Nope. Any other questions?”

“How the heck did Louis get hired? And do you have any tips for when he gets on my back?”

“He was hired before I moved to Pearson Hardman. If you want I could have Donna take care of him for you – I’m sure she’d jump at the chance.”

“No, I need to learn to handle things on my own.”

“Harold does, too. Alright, let me think of some pranks bound to inspire some hesitation in him. Have you tried rigging the copier?”

“No. How did you do that?”

“I definitely had no involvement in any of this, mind you,” Harvey said with a finger to his nose. “But a little birdie told me that if you pull out that weird tray in the middle that no one ever uses and put in a picture of a severed head, it’ll pop out on top of whatever the next person prints.”

Their food came out shortly after and Mike continued picking up tips for dealing with the overbearing junior partner. Harvey stole a bite of Mike’s fish and chips and in return let the younger man taste his bangers and mash. The older man made the obligatory sausage joke when he offered, too, and Mike groaned into a grin.

\-----

The bill paid, Harvey led Mike out of the pub and down the street deeper into the West Village. The loud signs for restaurants and shops gave way to sober red bricks as the roads became an anarchic mess of obtuse and acute angles. He’d considered moving here years ago, but settled on the condo uptown because he wanted a real view of the city. That, and once he’d spotted the glass elevator he couldn’t possibly say no.

“Harvey, are you going to tell me where we’re going? It’s not some posh dungeon for celebrities and the wealthy, is it?”

“No, Mike,” he answered with a headshake. “It’s close by anyway, so I might as well give you something to chew on. We’re going to see a play.”

“Oh. Are you trying to inject some culture into me to go with the manners?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t teach all my lessons through fucking,” Harvey lamented as he pulled Mike in for a long kiss.

They reached the correct address shortly thereafter. The nondescript building wouldn’t have stood out from its neighbors, but for the familiar figure awaiting their arrival.

“Donna, what are you doing here?” Harvey asked, growing anxious.

“Oh, I just wanted to say hello and see how my favorite guys are doing.”

“Should she-”

“No, Mike, she shouldn’t be here. I thought you were supposed to be at the office clearing out the backlog?”

“I was, but there wasn’t as much as I expected. Besides, I can’t exactly ring up the clients you lost and beg them to come back on a Saturday, can I?”

“…I lost clients?” Harvey checked, beginning to sweat.

“Gotcha! But you probably would have if you had kept Cameron around for another day. Did he really make you sign all those forms yourself?”

“No, Donna, I had that ice pack by my desk purely for the aesthetics of it.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a good prank in mind for him…You look chipper, Mike. Anything you’d like to share with me?”

“Uhhh-”

Harvey wrapped an arm around the younger man on instinct. Remembering Donna’s uncanny powers of perception, however, he immediately regretted it.

“My, my – it’s already gotten that far, huh? Alright, well I do have other plans for the evening, so I’ll let you take your seats. Hey, Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“I purchased the tickets, but Harvey was the one to find this play. Don’t let him try to convince you that he’s not a closet romantic.”

“Goodnight, Donna,” the older man announced, dragging Mike towards the theater inside the building. Harvey gave the man at the door his name and waited while they checked the list. That done, an usher handed both of them programs; Mike’s eyes lit up as he read the title.

“ _50 Movies in as Many Minutes: Patrick Stewart’s One Man Show_?” he asked, dumbstruck.

“Did I nail it or did I nail it?” Harvey bragged, placing a hand on Mike’s back as they followed the woman in the black garb to their seats.

“So you admit Captain Picard is the man?” Mike needled, causing the usher to laugh into a snort.

“Nope. But the man is a pretty good actor.”

Mike rolled his eyes but his grin remained pasted on his face as he tore through the program until the lights dimmed.

\-----

Mike left Harvey’s condo early Sunday morning to accompany Grammy to mass and take her and her friends out to lunch afterwards. He’d gone back to his apartment briefly to change into one of his other suits beforehand, still conscious of her jab about him looking like a beggar.

Mildred and Rebecca vocalized their approval. The former commented on how nice he looked and demanded that he offer her the arm Grammy wasn’t occupying. It was a silly sight, he was sure – a young guy in a too nice suit with three elderly women at his sides and behind him. He thanked Heaven that Rachel was virulently opposed to entering Brooklyn; if she had spotted them the resulting teasing would have been unbearable.

His positive demeanor hadn’t escaped Grammy’s notice, and he’d thanked her for telling him to be patient after seeing the other two women back to their rooms and steering Grammy to hers.

“So, Michael, when do I get to see you next? A week from today?” Grammy asked as he helped her back into bed.

“Probably, but it depends on work. It’d be nice to be able to set a definite day for my visits like I used to before Pearson Hardman.”

“Nonsense, Michael. You’re at the point in life when everything seems hectic, but when you get older you’ll learn to look back on these days fondly.”

“Okay, Grammy,” Mike said noncommittally as he pulled the sheets up to her stomach.

“Michael, I’m so proud of you. And I know I’m not the only one.”

Mike blushed at that. He thought giving up Trevor would have left him alone friend-wise, but his family had grown quite large since Jessica pulled him into her world. And then there was Harvey…

“I do want you to remember to call me during the week, even if you can’t stop by and chat in person. And maybe one day I could stop by your office and meet some of these people. That Donna sounds like a real firecracker.”

“You got that right, Grammy. I’ll look into that for you, but I’m not going to lie – I don’t think most people bring family members in to visit; them being lawyers and what not-”

“I’m an exceptional woman, Michael. I think Jessica and I would get along like a house on fire.”

Mike struggled to hide the fear on his face at that comment.

“Okay,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I’ll do my best to help you to Mass, at least. Stay well, Grammy.”

“Tell him I said thank you,” she called out as he made his way down the hallway.

He made another trip to his apartment, changing back into casual clothes and heading out. Being at Harvey’s for the weekend had other advantages, it seemed – there was a sign on the super’s door at the bottom of the stairs warning that the hot water wouldn’t be back on for another couple of days.

Mike checked his watch when he pulled up to the entrance of Harvey’s condo. It was early afternoon, and he hoped he hadn’t ruined the mood of the weekend by being gone so long. Mike rang the doorbell and waited for a bit. There wasn’t a response so he tried again, whipping out his phone when silence was the only response. He was midway through dialing when he heard the ding of the elevator behind him.

Harvey stepped out of the lift, sweaty in a racing singlet and tight running shorts. It was a hell of a sight to behold, and Mike hoped his awestruck twittering wasn’t readable.

“Perfect timing, rookie. I just got back from my run,” Harvey announced, leaning into a kiss so that his clothes didn’t come into contact with Mike’s. He retrieved his keys from a pocket at the back of his shorts and opened the door, waving Mike in first.

“Damn you, Harvey. Do you have to look good in everything?” Mike asked, still admiring the man’s post-exercise glow.

“I don’t know, Mike – you tell me,” he charged with a raised eyebrow. “Did you have to cram onto the L to get over to Brooklyn? I know you said you were taking your grandmother to church.”

“Yup, why?”

“I was thinking that I’d have a quick shower and then we could relax out on the deck? The weather is supposed to hold until tonight.”

“I sunburn pretty easily.”

“I have tanning lotion.”

“It’s gotta be a pretty high SPF. Probably 30 or 45 at least; there was this one time when I was eleven and Grammy took me to Coney Island-”

“Mike, you’re missing the point. I have lotion and I’m going to rub it on you. On the deck.”

Mike was conscious of his mouth hanging open for a little too long. “Right. No, I definitely got that part; it’s-”

“Just get naked and wait on the couch. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Mike shucked off his clothes and sat cross-legged on the leather, listening to the sound of rushing water. At one point Harvey actually started humming “There’s a Small Hotel”. When the older man came out from the bedroom, his hair still slightly damp and his skin reddened, Mike was dumbstruck again.

“Ready?” he prompted, sliding open the glass door and beckoning with his other hand.

“Um, YOLO, I guess,” he mumbled, stepping outside. There weren’t any taller buildings around, but he felt like a helicopter might pass by at any moment.

“Let me throw the towel over the chair, then you can lie down. No – face down first, I think.”

Mike sprawled out, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his back. He’d just gotten comfortable when he felt cold liquid landing on his shoulder blades, followed by the firm ministrations of the brunet.

“I wish this weekend didn’t have to end.”

“You could do with a month’s worth of tanning,” Harvey prodded, moving down to the small of his back.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Besides, I’m mostly Scottish; you can’t have it all.”

“Have we met?”

“Okay, yes, you’re just about everything, Harvey. Would you like me to list all of your best assets?”

“I’m fully aware of them all, but if you’d like to anyway then you’re more than welcome,” he invited, squeezing out more lotion onto Mike’s butt.

“I wouldn’t want to feed your ego – you might not be able to get back inside.”

Harvey gave him a sharp, wet spank before continuing on with his task, working the lotion into his legs and massaging the muscles there in the process. The brunet coated Mike’s arms, ears, and neck before moving over to the adjacent chair.

“Do you want me to rub lotion on you?”

“I can do it myself. I wouldn't want to impose.”

“Seriously, Harvey? You’ve been second-guessing this ever since we had that chat yesterday, haven’t you?” Mike accused, rising from his chair. “Yes, I forgive you for what you did earlier. Yes, I want this to continue. And yes, I accept the limitations of our situation.”

“Mike-”

“Shut up, lie down, and let me rub lotion into your ridiculously perfect backside. _I don’t mind_.”

“Thanks,” the older man muttered into his towel, barely audible. Mike made sure to drag out the process a little, massaging his ass until Harvey cleared his throat sharply and lifted a leg up. When he was done he plopped down on his own chair, turning to face the brunet.

“Do you want to decide what’s for dinner as well?” he asked. If Mike didn’t know him well enough already, it would have come across as crass. However, he could tell Harvey was pleading for the younger man to move the conversation back to safe territory.

“I make killer chicken and waffles.”

“Is everything you like to eat unhealthy? I feel like I’m going to have to institute a salad for lunch policy, if only to avoid contact hypertension.”

“I forget that old men have weaker digestive systems.”

“Keep that up and I’ll punish you before bed tonight.”

“Is that a promise?” Mike asked with a wink.

“Hmph. Are you and Jessica working on any interesting cases?” Harvey asked, adjusting himself on the chair so that his eyes were level with Mike’s.

Mike didn’t point out the banality of discussing work to Harvey; he understood that the older man was still adjusting to their new situation himself. And somehow it didn’t feel odd speaking to the brunet about briefs and motions and discovery naked on his deck.

\-----

Harvey woke before the alarm on Monday. Normally, he’d have been annoyed to be off his routine, but he was grateful to have more time to enjoy the feeling of Mike in his arms. The blond’s arms and legs were all over the place and his hair looked like the aftermath of a heavy gale, but his warmth was comfortable. Having him beside himself calmed the older man.

It scared him, too. Mike had agreed to a standing arrangement with him, thrusting both of them towards an uncertain future. The younger man was emotional and unpredictable – more or less chaos personified. He was also a co-worker and Jessica’s personal associate, and somehow he had the power to get Harvey to do things he’d never have otherwise considered.

He flipped the positives and negatives over in his mind until the alarm went off; Harvey’s bedmate awoke in a panic and all those fears temporarily faded to the back of his mind. The two men showered and ate together, and it felt right. The brunet’s better judgment won out by a hair and he reluctantly sent Mike off to the office on his own, staying behind a bit to tidy up for Uli.

The ride with Ray was jovial, with the driver guessing what he and Mike had been up to over the weekend and Harvey upholding the gentleman’s code. Harvey noticed Donna’s bag standing beside her empty chair when he arrived. It wasn’t an entirely unprecedented occurrence, and he figured she’d left to make copies of any number of documents sent over by opposing councils. On the plus side, it meant he could have a little more time to torment Mike.

To: Mike (212-XXX-XXXX)

Sent: 7:13 AM

_Remember that time you lost control and fucked yourself to orgasm inside me in half a minute?_

_Wait, what am I saying? Of course you do._

From: Mike (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 7:14 AM

_I’m just about to meet with Jessica, Harvey! Don’t give me a boner while I’m in the bullpen._

To: Mike (212-XXX-XXXX)

Sent: 7:15 AM

_Bet you can’t wait until Friday so we can do that again._

This was only the morning of day one. By Friday, Mike would be so horny he’d probably be rutting up against Harvey in the elevator ride to his condo. Harvey smirked and decided to leave him alone, at least until lunchtime.

“Harvey Specter?”

“Yes?” he inquired, turning his head up from his desk to see a man in a tacky suit standing in the doorway.

“We haven’t met yet. I’m Travis Tanner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this, the deluge...


	13. Highs and Lows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER ALERT: This chapter includes some manipulative behavior and (non-graphic) violence. If you're sensitive about such material, avoid the last half of the final section.

“Alright, Tanner, I’ll bite: who are you, and why do you think you can waltz into my office?” Harvey asked. He could already smell a rat.

“I’m the man you should be getting on your knees to beg for mercy, because unless you do, I'm going to nail this whole damn firm for malpractice.”

“Those are some strong words coming from a man I didn’t know a minute ago. Would you care to enlighten me on this alleged malpractice Pearson Hardman committed?”

“Oh, I would. You see, five years ago you intentionally misrepresented MCF Records in their dispute with a number of artists in their employ. You leaked confidential information in return for an under-the-table payment from the other side because you knew you couldn’t win the case.”

“There’s only one problem: I never took on a case like that. Moreover, I don’t recall any of the facts pertaining to that case because it ended _five years ago_. In fact, I can’t even remember whose client MCF was.”

“Senility sets in awfully quick, doesn’t it? It was Daniel Hardman – the very same founding partner whose name is on the wall right by the elevators. And on all the letterhead.”

“If you had done your research properly, you’d know that Daniel Hardman hasn’t taken an active role in this firm for the past five years. If you have a complaint with him, you should drive out to his mansion in Riverdale,” Harvey suggested, though he was starting to get the sense this asshole had the firm by the balls.

“Whether or not he’s an active member of the firm, he’s still has equity in it. Furthermore, he was an active member at the time this crime was committed, making all of you liable for civil litigation, even if the statute of limitations has run out on the criminal end,” Tanner lectured, tossing a gigantic folder and several motions down on the desk. “Enjoy the reading material – don’t hurt your shoulder picking it all up at once.”

Harvey stood and watched as the man strolled out of his office, tossing a disrespectful smirk at Donna on his way out. That piece of shit wasn’t just stealing moves from his playbook – he was being unchivalrous, too.

“You didn’t have an appointment scheduled for now. Who was that?” his assistant asked, walking into the office.

“Some asshole who’s trying to take us to the cleaners.”

“Well that’s no problem. You’ll wipe the floor with him and he’ll know better next time.”

“Except that he’s not coming after us for anything I did. He’s trying to get us with malpractice that Daniel Hardman allegedly masterminded while he was managing partner.”

“I thought we were through with Hardman. God, that man is one gigantic septic tank,” Donna judged, walking toward the windows and gazing out at the early morning traffic. “But that alone wouldn’t have you in such a foul mood so early in the morning. Did he insult one of your records?”

“It’s worse than that. He brought up my shoulder-”

“Piece of shit,” she anticipated, the indignation now fully apparent. “Whatever you need me to do, I’m on it.”

“I know you hate it in there, but I’ll need you Harold to go hunting in the file room later. For now, can you get Jessica for me?”

“Jessica’s still meeting with Mike,” Donna turning back and sitting in the desk across from him. “By the way, how did the rest of weekend go? Did you boys enjoy sharing the discovery of your womanhoods?”

“Neither I nor Mike is a newbie to…wait, I see what you’re doing. Sorry, Donna, but the same rules apply with him as with all my previous acquaintances,” Harvey blocked, flipping through motion after preposterous motion. Change of venue for his own case, subpoena for every document that went through Hardman’s office, subpoena for deposition of everyone down to the janitorial staff working five years earlier – he’d be in court a whole day just fighting them.

“Steve texted me that Mike had a tan, and you’re wearing a navy suit. Don’t act like I can’t tell you were on cloud nine until that jackass stopped by.”

“Donna,” he jolted, raising his head to lock onto her eyes, “it’s become serious, so no more jokes.” She was caught off guard and it took her a couple seconds to flick back to blasé. “Just buzz Wendy and have her tell Jessica I’m on my way over. By the way, where were you earlier?” he asked as she turned to leave.

“You left me a note that said you wanted me to check on ‘your associate’. I thought I’d trained you remember Harold’s name by now. Unless that was-”

“Goddamn piece of shit,” they groaned in unison.

\-----

“Mike – so you did manage to get Harvey to cave after all. Nice tan, by the way; I think you’ve gone all the way from ivory to eggshell.”

“Hey, I left that message on Saturday. You can’t be upset with me for not speaking with you in person when your phone went straight to the answering machine all weekend.”

“I was in the Hamptons. You’d better be ready to hit the ground running,” the managing partner commented, tossing a stack of papers in his direction. “We’re headed to the courthouse to lodge a couple of motions this afternoon, so I need you to find precedents to justify our counterarguments to their counterarguments.”

“I get to see you be awesome in court?” the blond asked. He fistpumped when she nodded in the affirmative. “Hashtag: sweetestbit-”

“Complete that thought and I will forbid you from second-chairing me ever. Don’t think I haven’t known about that parody account for months now.”

“Buzz killer,” he grumbled.

“What’s that I hear in the air? Oh, it’s a divorce case calling out your name-”

“Alright, alright. I promise to be on my best behavior in court,” he offered, tacking on, “and around here,” when she directed a disapproving glare his way.

“Just get me my precedents.”

“So you have trouble with your rookie, too?” Harvey mocked, having pushed open the door to her office at that moment.

“I had a hell of a lot more trouble with my previous associate, to be honest. Harvey, what are you doing here?” she asked.

“I think we could have a problem on our hands.”

“That’s unfortunate. Here I was all set to congratulate you for getting your pro bono clients a settlement.”

“I had a little bit of assistance from your associate with that. In fact, he helped Harold come up with the winning play,” Harvey admitted, grinning at her.

“Uhh, thank you…Mr. Specter,” Mike eked out. Her associate was gradually reddening and he suddenly seemed a little jumpy.

“What’s the problem, Harvey?” she prodded, remembering her teleconference with a hedge fund manager in half an hour.

“This is a conversation that needs to be held in confidence, Jessica.”

“Granted. Mike, go get to work. Let’s set a tentative appointment for 12:30 to go over what you’ve found by then.”

The blond rose, saluted, and made his way for the door. He and Harvey stumbled into a sidestepping standoff until the senior partner grabbed him by the arm and pushed him out of her office. Jessica half-expected him to add a spank to the end of the awkward display – did they really think they could pull one over on her?

“Jessica, we just got served with papers-”

“That happens several times a day around here. The blonde receptionist has already memorized fifty different disguises that one deliveryman uses. Did you hear that he came dressed as Frankenstein’s monster last Tuesday?”

“This is different. We’re getting sued for something that Daniel Hardman allegedly did while he was in charge.”

Jessica eased back in her chair and made every effort to maintain her composure. She had half a mind to hurl one of her glass paperweights through the window.

“How bad is it?”

“Jessica, I wouldn’t have come down here and told you about this if it were someone else’s feet being held to the fire.”

“Harvey, you’re just being paranoid. There’s no way that Hardman would be dumb enough to try and spin this into getting back into the firm. He knows that we still hold the trump card.”

“The point of a trump card isn’t just that you don’t play it. It’s that you don’t let your opponent know you have it until the moment you need it. Hardman has been staring at ours for the past five years, and you don’t think he’s come up with something to beat it?”

“Are you still upset with me for stopping you back then? We won the battle quietly and cleanly. If we had tried to buy out his stake in the firm at that time-”

“We would have won the war.”

“Let’s not rehash this debate again. I’m busy taking on Robert Zane, so I’ll leave it to you to fend this off. And the next time I give you a pro bono you’d better not complain about the lack of exciting cases in your inbox.”

“Understood. I’ll blast the clown with both barrels and make him refocus all his resources on going after Hardman alone.”

“Both barrels? If this case is a Western, just make sure that it’s more _High Noon_ than _Lone Ranger_. Oh, and thank you for letting my associate return to work.”

“Gary Cooper – I like that. From what I hear, though, Mike was never actually off the job,” the man accused, leaning on her desk.

“Did you think I would allow you to force me to do my own grunt work? I need all my faculties to keep you and the other partners out of trouble. Speaking of which: back to work.”

\-----

Mike tapped his pen against the library table as he worked, fully submerged in thought. It was times like these that made the deception and the anxiety worth it. He was playing three games of chess blindfolded: guessing what Robert Zane would do in court, scouring for appropriate counter-measures, and then checking to make sure they weren’t being goaded into a trap.

“…Mike! Mike!”

“Huh?”

“Mike, we can all hear your music. Turn the volume down,” Rachel demanded, swiping the pen from his hand and stilling it against the table.

“Oh.” He reached down and paused _Don’t Stand So Close to Me_ and took a look around at a collection of peeved faces. Seriously, who worked in complete silence – if they had a problem with his music they should just bring their own music players to work.

“And to think I worried that you might never come back,” the paralegal muttered, leaning back to stretch her neck. There were gigantic tomes piled high all over the table, coincidentally from either side of the issue of employer malfeasance – Rachel was assisting one of the partners in M&A trying to tie up a claim of collusion lodged against a corporate client.

“It’s only my first day back. Besides, who else buys you lunch?”

“Well, Kyle and Devon, when they’re in a pinch. It’s Donna’s turn to pick up the next check when the two of us go out to eat. Beverly and Carol usually treat me a meal when I’m working on something for them-”

“Okay, okay. Jeez, you paralegals have all the power around here,” he moaned, shaking his coffee cup and discovering it to be bone dry.

“Just be more mindful of people around you,” she consoled. “Like poor Harold. I don’t think he’ll be leaving the file room for a few days.”

“What is he working on anyway?”

“Dunno. My guess is that Donna is there with him, since I haven’t seen her today. She once told me that she’d only set foot in that dust trap in the event of a catastrophe, so whatever case Harvey’s working on must be huge.”

“It never lets up around here.”

“It’s taken you this long to figure it out?” she joked, rolling her eyes. “How are you coming on your arguments for the preliminary hearing?”

“I think I’ve got most of it covered, but I don’t know what arguments he’ll use. I could be planning out a brilliant defense against one of his points only to have him argue something else entirely and leave Jessica looking stupid.”

“That’s why you’re the second chair, Mike. You’re not in court to fight the battle yourself; and this research – this is to give you practical knowledge for when you take the reins,” she assured, gesturing to his scribbled legal pad. “Jessica will probably just use your notes to refresh her brain after all her client meetings this morning.”

“Yeah, but if I don’t refresh her brain properly then I might get put on admin duty.”

“Didn’t you learn your lesson in the mock trial? Who you draw as judge has as much to do with the outcome of the case as your arguments do, and you guys pulled Judge Foster.”

“Is that bad?”

“I’ll just say this, Mike. Judge Foster is occasionally the best example of why a mandatory retirement age is not the best way to weed out eccentrics. The man is sixty-eight years old but acts more like he’s ninety-five.”

“So all the arguments I’m crafting will be valued depending on whether or not Mr. Cuckoobananas woke up on the right side of bed this morning?” he asked. He’d watched plenty of episodes of _Boston Legal_ in his college days, but he’d always understood it as hyperbole.

“First of all, remember your manners, Mike: it’s Judge Cuckoobananas. Secondly, welcome to the real world of everyday law; eventually you’ll understand why everyone tries to settle out of court.”

“Ugh. I need to go splash some water on my face. Can I get you more coffee while I’m up?” he checked, and she nodded vigorously in response.

“There’s the reason I missed you. Don’t skimp on the creamer this time,” she warned, returning her focus to the largest reference work in front of her.

Mike rose from the table and strolled out of the library and to the men’s room, half-noticing Louis yelling at one of the fourth years along the way. He bent down over the sink and brought two handfuls of cold water to his face. The sound of footsteps interrupted the subsequent moment of serenity.

“Harvey?” he asked as he rose up and looked in the mirror.

“I think you mean ‘Mr. Specter’, Mike,” the senior partner corrected, passing by the stalls and checking for legs under the doors. “You need to learn to be less clumsy around me, especially in front of your boss.”

“Maybe I wouldn't have been so clumsy if you hadn’t sent those text messages earlier.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t interact with you at the office?” the brunet inquired, closing the distance between them until they were practically on top of one another.

“I-I didn’t say that.”

“Mike, if you need me to back off, just tell me so. We agreed that work comes first.”

“Harvey, I’d rather you teased me than that you didn’t show me any acknowledgement at all,” the blond stated awkwardly as the older man adjusted the knot of Mike’s tie.

“Then you need to learn how to get yourself under control. Now quit dawdling in the bathroom and get back to finishing whatever it is that Jessica wants from you,” he directed, dropping the silk fabric and turning towards the urinals. “If you can behave yourself, you’ll get a reward on Friday.”

Mike cursed his erection down, completely forgetting about the coffee for Rachel and himself until he’d reached the doors to the library. He had to endure an insult from Kyle for the way he about-faced, but his ideas for what Harvey had in mind as a reward for him soothed the sting of it.

\-----

“Jessica, how lovely to see you again.”

“The pleasure is all mine, your honor,” the managing partner cooed as she kicked Mike in the shin to remind him to button his sport coat.

“Oh please, Jessica. You may do away with those silly formalities in here. We’re friends, so just call me Adam. And I extend the same privilege to you, too, Robert.”

“Herein representing Dirastacco’s, Adam.”

“Yes, yes, I see that. And who might you be?” the elderly man asked, turning to Mike.

“Mike Ross, Ad…Judge Fo…your honor. Second chair for Ms. Pearson.”

“So you’re Mike Ross,” Robert repeated, turning to him. “My daughter just goes on and on about how brilliant you are. I guess she hasn’t spent that much time around me in a while, so it’s understandable how she could be confused like that.”

“Now, Robert, you know are not to address the opposition like that,” the judge upbraided before returning his attention to Mike. “Sonny, I don’t think I’ve seen you before, which is strange since I make a point of attending all the Harvard commencements.”

“Well-”

“I’m afraid my new associate is rather forgettable – he blends right in with the crowd,” Jessica fired, giving another kick to shut up the chatterbox before he talked himself into an even bigger hole.

“Perhaps that’s it. A word of advice, Mr. Ross: I don’t approve of those narrow ties your generation seems to mistake as fashionable. What with the bellbottoms and the long hair for men and the shoulder pads for women it’s been a tough road for popular fashion since the 1950s… Do not let me catch you in one again,” he warned, waving the gavel about as he did. “I would have thought that someone in the same firm as Harvey Specter would know how to dress properly.”

“Adam, I don’t mean to prod, but we both would like to get to the golf course before sundown,” the opposing counsel hinted.

“Hmm, indeed. Now will you tell me why two intelligent individuals such as yourselves can’t seem to come to some kind of a settlement. You two both know how crowded my docket is already.”

“I haven’t ruled out the possibility of a settlement, Adam, but I don’t think we’ve come to appreciate the merits of each other’s arguments just yet,” Jessica explained, retrieving a number of folders from her bag.

“Are those the motions you’re trying for, Jessica?”

“They most certainly are, Adam. We’re seeking an injunction against any punitive actions by our clients’ employers against them during the course of this lawsuit. In addition, we’re requesting a subpoena for all internal memos and corporate policies, and because we’re nice enough to avoid engaging in abusive discovery, we’re limiting our request to only those documents related to hiring and promotions.”

“What say you, Robert?”

“We have no objections to the injunction, provided that the complainants agree not to file a wrongful termination lawsuit should they lose this one. And as to the issue of the subpoena: _Miller v. Fitsch_ , Adam. A company may refuse to acknowledge the request for disclosure if opposing counsel has a competitor as a client, instead turning over those documents to a third party. Since Pearson Hardman is on retainer for Complete Nutrition, we’ve already selected a potential review board to comb through the documents.”

“Indeed. Jessica?”

“ _Miller_ only applies if there’s a prior history of misconduct, per _Donaldson v. Mateo_. My firm has never engaged in such improper behavior during my watch, and Robert would do well to remember that I do not tolerate slander. Furthermore, the idea of a company like Dirastacco’s paying an outside body to find evidence of its own malfeasance is patently absurd.”

“In that case, how about _Petersen v. Chadwick_? The complainant must present a valid claim of what they expect to find in discovery, and may not engage in a fishing expedition.”

“It’s been quite a while since I’ve gone fishing,” the elderly judge admitted to no one in particular, turning to his bailiff. “Remind me to call my son and ask him if he wants to go up to the Adirondacks sometime soon.”

Jessica flashed a preemptory side-glare at Mike to keep him from making a wisecrack about the tottering old man sitting at the bench. Truth be told, Adam Foster made Harvey look like a shoe-in for the Supreme Court.

“Adam, we believe that we have already met the requirements to pass the test established in _Petersen_. The affidavits of several witnesses will attest to what we expect to find in the documents we’re asking to see.”

“We have not yet had the chance to depose their witnesses, Adam,” Zane quickly added.

“Hmmm. I’ll review those affidavits and make a ruling in twenty-four hours’ time. Are there any other motions to present?”

“Yes, Adam,” Robert answered. “The defense would like to dispute the grounds for making this a class-action lawsuit.”

“So you’d like to break up this one case into several? How courteous of you, Robert, filling even more of my docket with this matter. What says the complainant?”

“ _Ridsholt v. Quartz_ : a class-action suit cannot be divided if the alleged offense is localized and the involved parties are readily available to both sides. All of our clients work or worked in Manhattan, and all of them were employed by the same company…your honor,” Mike responded. Jessica let slip a microscopic grin at the surprise on the other men’s faces.

“Yes, I believe that addresses that motion. The class-action suit shall remain as a whole. Aaaaaaanything else, Robert?”

“The defense requests that the trial be expedited, Adam.”

“Before I’ve even ruled on the subpoenas and extent of discovery? I think not. Motion tabled for possible reconsideration at a later date. Now, are we done?”

“Nothing further from our side,” Jessica remarked, putting her folders back in her bag.

“Likewise,” opposing counsel uttered, looking distinctly displeased.

“Good. And if I might observe aloud: that was quite impressive for a first-year, sonny, but I meant what I said about those ties. If I see one the next time you stand before me I’ll fine you a thousand dollars.”

With that, the elderly man swung his gavel and the next group of parties rose. Jessica sashayed toward the doors and led Mike out of the courthouse.

“Good work, rookie. Finish up your tasks and make sure to get enough rest tonight. You’ll need your sleep for when Zane starts sending over those boxes.”

“I totally rocked that, right?” the associate reiterated, throwing up his hand for a high five.

“Please. You managed to counter one argument with an appropriate response. That’s better than most, but don’t expect physical contact until you’ve made Justice Thomas break into a chuckle in oral arguments,” she scoffed, ducking down to get in the back of the car while Keith held the door for her.

“Wait, have you argued before the Supreme Court? More importantly, can we please talk about Adam? Does anyone know if he has a navel; or all his ribs, for that matter? Or maybe he’s Judge Cosby, what with the purple hair and the lip rings and the whoositz-whatsitz doodad-”

“Insult Cosby again and you can walk back.”

Jessica ignored her associate’s annoyed face and whipped out her phone. Sparring with Mike took a fair bit of concentration, but it didn’t make multi-tasking impossible, so she might as well knock out a few e-mails on the ride back to the office.

\-----

“Donna? Harold?” Harvey called out late the next morning, walking down stack after stack of dusty boxes piled high from floor to ceiling.

“You’re paying for my dry-cleaning, boss,” his assistant replied from her spot on the ground. She was on her haunches, busily digging through a folder stuffed with an untold number of papers.

“I’ll entertain that thought if you’ve found anything useful. Where’s Harold?”

“He’s researching the record company at his desk. He was sneezing up a storm yesterday and I figured he was just going to get in my way if he hung around here any longer,” she justified, reaching for a folder she had set aside from the rest. “Oh, and I did stumble across something…er, the lack of something.”

“What is it?” he asked, bending down to take it from her.

“Hardman’s old assistant, Betsy-”

“You mean Betsy ‘Bimbo’ Brown?”

“I thought you were a gentleman, Harvey. Anyway, she meticulously noted his every movement in this schedule. Now, removing all the appointments to see his wife and the other thinly veiled excuses for rendezvous with Monica Eton, you’ll see that everything seems perfectly normal.”

“This is supposed to impress me?” the senior partner asked, leafing through page after page of mundane notes.

“I’m trying to be dramatic here, so cram it and stop interrupting,” his assistant scolded. “Now, everything seems normal. But during the timeframe when that case was happening, you’ll note that she put down three dash marks in the ‘who’ line for several hour-long increments when he was out of the office.”

“That’s not so unusual. I don’t have you write the names of potential witnesses in my schedule until we’re sure they’ll testify.”

“Yes, but this is Hardman we’re talking about; he’d have given Betsy a fake name to use in most circumstances. On top of that, there are several calls that she logged as going directly to her boss. The man was managing partner, Harvey – who do you think would be so important that they were allowed to bypass his secretary, but not close enough to simply chat with him in person?”

“Knowing the man as well as we do, probably any number of people,” he thought aloud, rubbing his forehead. “This is a good start, but have you found anything odd about the trial itself?”

“That’s the oddest thing: it seems like Hardman was trying to drag this case out for as long as possible. I’ve only gotten halfway through pre-trial on account of all the meetings, motions, and discovery. But why would he extend what seems like such a small matter, considering everything else for which he was responsible? Even padding the fee from the client wouldn't’ have justified it.”

“Hmm. Alright, I’m going to go catch up with Vanessa and see if she got anything from the financials. You stay here and let me know if you find a smoking gun.”

“Understood, boss.”

“Oh, and about Cameron…you didn’t have anything to do with what happened yesterday, did you?”

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, Harvey.”

The senior partner stared at his assistant, remaining perfectly still. It took about half a minute, but Donna finally blinked. She announced her irritation with a scowl.

“Okay, so I might have slipped some laxatives into his vitamin water at lunch. But honestly, what kind of person drinks vitamin water?”

“‘Some’ laxatives?”

“…Four tablets. I only did it for your sake.”

“You will explain to Davis why his temp assistant was in the bathroom for half the afternoon and make sure he isn’t fired by his agency.”

“Sheesh, fine. Now get out of my way. I think the judge was tapping his stenographer, and I want to see if she breaks down and admits it during the trial itself,” the redhead explained, returning her focus to the piles of documents.

Harvey rolled his eyes and headed for the elevators, resisting the urge to stroll through the bullpen as he did. He wanted to stop by Mike’s desk and tease the associate a little, but they both needed to be careful, and he, the senior partner, more so. An uneventful ride down and a quick conversation with Steve later, he was strolling over to his favorite hot dog cart.

_“Jean had a long moustache.”_

“ _There is a fire at the insurance agency_ ,” Harvey responded, careful to not look directly at his CI. She was a stickler for her code words and sideways conversations in spite of the fact that they’d worked together for years.

“The old dog was quite naughty,” she began as he gave the man behind the cart his order. “Taking gifts from strangers – what would his mother have said?”

“Were they really strangers?” he pried, handing the worker a dollar and taking his lunch in return.

“No. He sniffed and they petted. Here, have a look for yourself,” she offered, holding out a messily folded sheet of paper.

On it was a list of financial transactions. First, a handful of anonymous accounts transferred identical sums of money into a dummy account; then, that account emptied itself through a series of banks in the kinds of countries not known for official disclosure. Finally, the lucre migrated to an account listed under Alicia Hardman.

“Son of a bitch. He even used his wife for something like this.”

“Now, I can’t get the names of the people slipping treats to him, but given the timing and the fact that they all gave the same amount…”

“The only way it wasn’t them is if that bastard was doing this to multiple clients at the same time,” Harvey commented angrily before sinking his teeth into his food.

“If you want me to do a full check on the old hound dog, you’ll have to give me some additional time. The man hasn’t been completely careless about his personal information.”

“Forget about him for the moment. I want you to look into a guy called Travis Tanner. I don’t recognize him, and that means he probably works outside of New York. Beyond that, I don’t have much of a lead.”

“The rabbit is heading back to carrot patch,” she nodded, starting in the other direction.

“Was that your best impromptu spy speak, or is your brain stuck on animal metaphors?” Harvey joked.

Vanessa glared at him with a look that announced she could kill him in broad daylight on this busy street and nobody would stop her. Harvey still felt uneasy when he was back in his office five minutes later.

\-----

“There’s a delivery for one Mike Ross in the private library.”

“Is it his pink slip?” the black-haired associate in the next cubicle over jabbed. “You should tell whomever was in charge of sending it that it’s way past due.”

“It’s funny you say that. The person who drafts termination letters for Ms. Pearson’s signature is me,” Wendy instructed with a hair flip. “But when it’s your turn I’ll be sure to throw my autograph on there as well, since you’ll probably need the money.”

“Ooooooh, she so burned you, Durant.”

“Don’t gloat, Mike; it’s beneath all of us. Hurry up – you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you.”

The assistant didn’t miss the way the two associates thrust their tongues out at each other while she waited for the blond to get his highlighters and the recharge cord for his phone. Occasionally she felt lonely working out of earshot of anyone but her boss; at times like these, though, she was grateful to be far away from the playpen.

“So, boss lady, how many boxes am I going to have to clear?”

“Just one,” she passed on quickly, leading the way toward the back of the library and one of the small white rooms therein.

“Only one? You do realize I’ll be done in like an hour, tops?”

“I don’t think so. There: have a look for yourself.”

Mike popped the lid off the box and found a massive pile of black plastic waiting inside. He turned back to her as if to request justification for the fear spreading across his face.

“Robert Zane left you a personal note with it and the delivery guy asked me to read it aloud to you:

_Dear Wonderboy,_

_(I know that Jessica won’t do any of this herself, so there’s no need to address her as well.)_

_We here at Rand, Calder, and Zane are firm believers in reducing paper waste, so we make strenuous efforts to digitize all information. As ordered by Judge Foster, we’ve sent over every document you requested from our client and then some. There are forty flash drives there, and each one holds two gigabytes of text. That’s just text, mind you – no pictures or GIFs or whatever the kids on Tumblr are into now. Have fun._

_All the best,_

_Robert Zane, Esq._

_PS: Try to get my daughter to help you with this, and I’ll tell everyone that you’re a wimp._

“See what I mean about gloating? Ms. Pearson needs all of that,” Wendy started, waving hesitantly at the box, “analyzed by Monday for the first depositions. If you want, I can try to round up another associate or two…”

“No,” Mike stopped her. “I don’t want to risk them missing something. Does everyone use the same stupid ‘bury the opposition in paperwork’ strategy?”

“Technically it’s not paperwork,” Wendy corrected, cringing at the blond’s focused glare. “I’ll…just…leave you alone now. If it helps, I can swing by with a Red Bull on my way out?”

“Thanks, boss lady.”

Wendy smiled sympathetically and exited the library. Louis sprung from his office as she made her way back to her desk, startling her. She would need to have a chat with Donna about how to stop him from doing that.

“Wendy, where’s Mike? I have a stack of briefs that need proofing and I’m still waiting on precedent research for my cat food case.”

“Louis, Mike’s services will not be available to you for the rest of the week. He’s handling a case for Ms. Pearson and-”

“And nothing. I’m in charge of the associates, and I need him to put in the work just like everyone else in the pool. He doesn’t get to pass on assignments just because he’s the managing partner’s bag boy. Am I going to have to report your insubordination?”

Wendy briefly wondered how deeply she could stab her fingernails into the junior partner’s face. Unfortunately, that would mean having to reapply her polish, and she was lucky to get enough time to do that once a week with all the work she had here.

“Louis, when did you become so soft?” called out a voice from behind her.

Harvey. The senior partner came strolling over toward the two of them, his hands thrust nonchalantly in his pockets. She always knew there was a time when that smug grin was good for something.

“I will have you know I maintain a vigorous exercise schedule at my tennis club. I have my own private court when I’m there, in fact.”

“I’m not talking about your rusty backhand; I’m talking about the fact that you need to have the associates do your work for you. When you’re not having Harold craft all your motions, you’re getting Mike to correct your typos. What’s the matter: have you lost however much of ‘it’ you ever had?”

“I can do all those things in my sleep. I have the associates take care of it because they need to learn how-”

“How to do their jobs? Harold and Mike already learn plenty from completing the tasks they’re assigned by the people who hired them. And those tasks have real importance, unlike whatever the hell you give them.”

“My cases bring in more revenue to the firm than anyone else.”

“How can you even call them your cases? Harold did everything but kick the extra point against Tilset. And then there’s Keith, Johnny, and Dirk, too. Divided by the number of underlings actually doing the heavy lifting, your billables are probably less than the receptionists’.”

“You know what? I’m going to do all of it myself just to prove to everyone why it should have been me to get the promotion. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

“Louis, I hate to spoil it for you, but the senior-partner-only meetings are just as boring as the ones with the junior partners. All you’re missing out on are the little pastel macarons. But c’mon, suing a cat food company?- you’re making it way too easy.”

The junior partner shook like a whistling teapot, balled his hands into fists, and retreated into his office.

“Thanks, Harvey.”

“For what? I was just making sure Harold manages to get my work done on time for a change,” the brunet replied with a raised eyebrow. “And I need to give Jessica some bad news; it might help if someone got her in a good mood before I arrived.”

“Considering your end of the deal is already over, I suppose it’s an offer I can’t refuse,” she sighed with a sense of resignation.

\-----

Late on Friday night, after Donna and Harold and even Louis had gone home, Harvey rose from his desk and snatched up his briefcase. It had been a long week, and thanks to a panicked client he’d need to head out of the city on Saturday, but he’d be damned if he couldn’t spend at least a little time with Mike. The tension stemming from all the self-restraint he’d employed for the past five days was taxing in a way no boxing practice could solve.

The library reeked of some kind of curry dish, which probably explained why the desks were devoid any humans, associates or otherwise. Harvey held his breath and hurried for the back rooms, opening each door in turn until he found the idiotic blond genius. When he did, he hesitated for a moment and reveled in the sight of the associate bobbing his head back and forth to the beat of a Seventies disco track.

“Jesus!” Mike shouted, jumping at the sight of the senior partner. “Har…Mr. Specter, I didn’t see you there. How long have you been watching me?”

“Are you ready to go?”

“Huh? Oh, well…”

“Is there a problem?”

“I’ve still got twelve gigabytes of discovery that I need to finish by Monday, and associates aren’t allowed to take documents out of the office. I won’t be able to stay the full weekend.”

“I have to head down to Philadelphia tomorrow morning, anyway, but I was hoping that you could drop by my place tonight. Do you think you can spare me that much time?”

“Umm,” Mike considered, glancing at a stack of flash drives, “I think so.”

“And maybe Sunday night, too?”

“Possibly. You’d have to make it worth my while, though,” the blond grinned. He shut the laptop and reached for his bag with a yawn. “And forgive my fatigue. Reading dense legal text off a computer screen is even more painful than doing it from hard copies.”

“Are you going to give up just because of that?”

“Of course not. I, for one, am not a quitter,” Mike accused with a swipe of his tongue.

“Then prepare to put some of that tenacity to use in my home, because I’m not going easy on you after holding back for a week,” Harvey commanded. He seized the chance to grab the blond by his skinny tie and deliver a half-dozen sharp spanks to that firm posterior.

“Hey! I thought we had a no hanky-panky rule for the office?”

“I would never sign a contract using the term ‘hanky-panky’, mostly because I’m not a fourteen-year-old. Ray’s waiting out front – we’ll take different elevators and meet in the back seat.”

Unsurprisingly, they made out the entire ride to Harvey’s building. By the time the driver rapped on the partition to announce their arrival, the older man had removed the blond’s tie and undone four of his shirt buttons. Harvey thanked the man, reminded him of their trip to Penn Station the next morning, and frantically pushed Mike along toward the glass elevator.

“What’s gotten into you?” the blond asked as Harvey scooted him against the glass and pressed the button to ascend.

“Nothing compared to what’s going to get into you.”

“That was terrible. Like, even in my sleep-deprived state, that was terrible.”

“If that’s how you feel, we can skip out on all the fun and just go straight to sleep. You look like you could use your rest,” Harvey mocked, pulling back as the younger man attempted a kiss.

“No way…can we have sex in here again?” Mike asked, glancing around the lift.

“I was thinking of the deck instead. I wanted to screw you outside on Sunday, but I figured you’d need some more time to recover.”

“Ooh, so this is romantic Harvey. You wanna make lurrrrrve to me all night underneath the moon and the stars?”

“Shut up and help me get your clothes off. I don’t want to wait any longer once we get to the condo,” the brunet responded, tearing at the buckle of Mike’s belt. “And another thing: you’re wearing one of Rene’s suits. You don’t need a belt to hold up your pants.”

“You just want easier access,” Mike stated, but Harvey shut him up with one of their trademark sloppy kisses.

The blond was down to his socks by the time the elevator doors chimed.

\-----

Mike awoke the next morning, expecting to feel Harvey’s arms wrapped around him. Instead he found himself in an empty bed, and the amount of disappointment that caused disturbed him slightly. The blond hadn’t been in a relationship in a long time, sure, but this was just a fuck buddy arrangement – he needed to control his expectations of what the older man was able to give him.

“Good, you’re up.”

The blond turned and found Harvey in the doorway; he’d already showered and dressed, the bastard. To make it worse, the tight vest of his three-piece suit somehow highlighted his chest definition.

“What time is it?” Mike asked, tamping down his hair with a yawn.

“Six. I normally don’t wake this early on a Saturday, but Ray’s picking me up in forty minutes. If you want, I can have him give you a lift to the office on the way.”

“I think I need to go home and change my clothes first. That’s the best perk of working on the weekend: getting to dress casual.”

“Speak for yourself, Mike,” the older man countered. “Image matters, especially when you’re given the choice between casual and formal and you opt for the latter.”

“I’m going to be reading through discovery in a tiny, all-white room at the back of the library. Besides, I need to have my suits cleaned. We don’t all have a closet full of them.”

“But you will eventually,” Harvey assured, leaning down to kiss him. “Are you okay with omelets?”

“I’ve got a tip for you, Mr. Bestest-Closer-Ever.”

“And what might that be, Mike?” the brunet asked, pushing the sheets down and exposing the younger man’s skin to the cool air.

“You should lead off all your conversations with the promise of food. It’s the most effective form of persuasion.”

“And here I thought you wanted me for my body. Just hurry up and shower; breakfast will be on the table when you’re done,” he huffed jokingly, exiting to the kitchen.

When he’d finished bathing, Mike snuck out to the kitchen and took the opportunity to push Harvey down onto one of the chairs. He’d long hypothesized that the older man had a fetish for receiving blowjobs while fully dressed, and the subsequent ten minutes proved his guess correct. And if Mike got even more satisfaction out of it than the brunet did, well, that was just the way his brain was hardwired…right?

“That was one hell of a gift,” Harvey chuckled as he rebuttoned his fly. “Crap, I completely forgot.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll give you it on Sunday. Go get dressed and then we’ll eat; as much as I enjoyed that, I don’t want to miss my plane.”

“You got me something?”

“Don’t ruin the moment, Mike. Clothes, food, and then we need to head out.”

“Got it,” Mike conceded, rushing back to the walk-in to throw on the clothes he’d worn the day before. The rest of their time together was a blur of wolfing down Harvey’s (vexingly delicious) omelets and rushing down to the front of the building. The older man said goodbye with a light kiss and ruffle of his hair before disappearing into the back of Ray’s car.

Mike wanted to bask in the sensation of Harvey’s hands in his hair for the morning, but he steeled himself and hailed a cab instead. Luckily, the driver was willing to head to Brooklyn, and assuming the subway would be as cooperative, he figured he might be able to get back to the office and finish up the discovery by one in the morning. Then he’d have Sunday for Grammy and Harvey.

He caught himself whistling as he headed up the steps to his apartment, but decided his neighbors could deal with it if they had a problem with the noise. He unlocked his door and pushed it open, trying to remember where he’d left the garment bag the dry-cleaner demanded he use.

“Mikey, where the hell have you been?”

“What the fu- Trevor?”

The man in question was sitting on Mike’s bed. He didn’t look like his usual self – his hair was unkempt, his nails were long and dirty, and his eyes were bloodshot. Next to him (he looked thinner than normal, too, now that Mike thought about it) lay one of Rene’s suits and a couple of legal texts Mike had yet to return to his boss.

“Where did you get these suits? And why haven’t you been answering my phone?” the other man interrogated angrily. “What, did another crowd of test dodgers get into contact with you? Or maybe you found yourself a sugar daddy and thought you could just abandon me?”

“Trevor, how the hell did you get in here?”

“You know I know your landlord, dweeb. Now start answering my questions, because you’re not leaving until I figure out what you’ve been up to and why you aren’t helping me courier like you said you would.”

“That was a one-time deal.”

“Which you bailed on! Do you have any idea how much shit you put me through when you didn’t deliver the product!?”

“It was a sting, Trevor! You nearly got me caught by the cops.”

“Oh, excuse me – _I actually was in jail_. And not only did you not bail me out, you didn’t even come by to talk to me! You just paid for some defense attorney to get me off like you didn’t want to have anything to do with me. What’s the matter, Mikey: are you too good for me now?”

“Yeah, I got you out of a prison sentence. You’re welcome. And in case you forgot, Grammy depends on me, Trevor; I can’t get caught up in your stupid shit anymore.”

“I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just say that. We both know I’m the one person in your life who’s ever been good to you,” the other man seethed, standing and making his way toward Mike. “Hell, you’d probably be dead by now if it weren’t for everything I’ve done for you.”

“I paid your legal fees, so consider us even now, Trevor. I have somewhere I need to be; it’s time for you to leave.”

Maybe it was lingering exhaustion from all the hours spent going through those flash drives, but Mike didn’t even see Trevor’s fist as it sailed through the air toward his face. It made contact with his brow line, a disgusting thwack reverberating around the room. The blond’s old buddy had always been better in a fight, and he knocked Mike down to the floor with a few more uncontested blows.

“I didn’t want to do that. I swear I didn’t, but you made me, Mikey. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but we’re going to continue this conversation when you’ve come to your senses,” Trevor warned before he left, slamming the door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't foresee including any more physical altercations for the course of the story. For those of you wishing to read about Harvey knocking Trevor out cold in revenge, well...there are probably plenty of other stories like that already.


	14. You're Not Alone

Mike finished attaching the essential documents to his email to Jessica a little after two. Those last twelve gigabytes had comprised the most confusing, headache-inducing text he’d ever read since attempting _Finnegan’s Wake_ in fifth grade; only the makeshift ice pack (a plastic bag filled with cubes from the partner’s kitchen) he’d taped to his face had prevented him from accidentally rubbing his blackened eyelids in exhaustion. But with a final click of the trackpad it was done and dusted.

Which only left the rest of the colossal dung pile for him to address. He’d called Grammy earlier to bum out of helping her to church, but that meant he’d need to remember to visit during the week to make it up to her. He’d hung all of his suits and his tux in the wardrobe by Wendy’s desk – the former still required a trip to the dry-cleaners. Plus there was the suitcase he’d used at Harvey’s and which now contained all of his essential toiletries and personal documents.

Harvey.

What would he think if Mike told him what happened? Would showing too much weakness ruin the sex appeal for him? Would he break it off for fear of being dragged into Mike’s drama with Trevor? Or would he wake up and realize that the blond was worthless: an abnormal brain, a messed-up life, and a tiny apartment to which he couldn’t even return?

He leaned back in the metal folding chair and stared up at the ceiling through the spaces between the ice cubes. The pain was still just as bad as when he’d peeled himself off the floor of his own apartment this morning. Worse, actually. Everything throbbed, even after two maximum doses of aspirin. The bleeding from his left eyebrow and lower lip had stopped, at least…hopefully there wouldn’t be any scarring.

Mike pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and leaned forward to reach for his phone. The missed calls and the text message from the older man still sat unanswered on the home screen:

_How’d it go, Rookie – are we still on for tomorrow night?_

God. He couldn’t deal with any of it now, especially not Harvey. Maybe if he just avoided the older man until his wounds healed it’d be alright. It wasn’t like he never misplaced his phone, and what the fuck was he supposed to say? Maybe he’d figure it out if he got some shuteye.

With that in mind, he removed the tape from his face and let the bag of melting ice drop to the floor. He joined it shortly thereafter, rolling underneath the desk to avoid the light. At least the door locked, so he wouldn’t have to worry about getting run over by a janitor’s vacuum cleaner…not that it’d make him look any worse.

\-----

“Give yourself ten minutes and then start circling the block, Keith. I don’t think it’ll take too long to get him back down here.”

“Of course, Ms. Pearson. I hope he’s okay, though.”

“You and me both,” Jessica sighed as she got out of the car. The weekend security guard, Manuel, nodded at her; he’d been the one to tell her via Wendy about the state of her associate the prior day. She’d been unable to stop by then because of a conference of business leaders, but she wasn’t about to let him think that he could go around representing her with a shiner.

Once she’d landed on the fiftieth floor, she made straight for the library. Past a crowd of terrified associates in the main area were the four private reading rooms. She could just open all of them, but doing so might risk alerting Mike and spoiling the surprise. Four options, twenty-five percent chance of getting it right…or was it? She paused a moment longer and quietly unlocked the door on the far right with her master key before slamming it open as hard as she could.

“Holyeverlivingfuck!”

Checkmate.

“Didn’t anybody ever teach you to…Jessica?!” Mike shouted from under the desk. “Oh. Jesus. I didn’t mean you. Obviously, someone taught you how to…Am I going to dock my next paycheck for that?”

“You look like death warmed over. Someone socks you a half dozen times in the face and you decide that’s the day you’re going to work so late you have to sleep on the floor under a desk?” she demanded, shutting the door behind her to keep the others from hearing.

“It’s not what it looks like,” her associate claimed, obviously remembering the injuries he’d received the prior day.

“Do you find walking face-first into doorknobs to be a common occurrence in your life, Ross?” she scowled as he stood. “You might have sustained a concussion, so I’ll explain: that was sarcasm.”

“I didn’t get punched that hard.”

“Those huge bruises would suggest otherwise. You’re going to stop in the men’s room to down some aspirin and make yourself a little more presentable. Then we need to get going.”

“Going? Where could we possibly be going mid-day Sunday? And more to the point, don’t you have better places to be on a Sunday?” Mike inquired, unplugging his phone from the charger.

“Oh, I did. But then my idiot associate got beat down and decided to make a spectacle of himself, alarming the security guard on his way to work. Lesson number…oh, I lost count a while back: don’t come into the office after a punching match. Ever. You might as well have showed up to a client meeting in race car pajamas.”

“I can do that? See, you’ve obviously lost your mind since you’re here now, so I’ll explain: that was a joke.”

“I’m headed down to the lobby. If you’re not there in three minutes, I’ll loan you to Louis one day for every five seconds thereafter.

Four minutes later Mike stumbled out of one of the lifts with a weathered suitcase and hurried to follow her out to the car. He still looked like crap, but he’d at least fixed his hair and straightened his belt. She nodded at the far door and took her usual spot.

“It was Trevor,” he confessed while buckling his seatbelt.

“You think I didn’t know that yesterday? Give me a little credit, Mike. Would Trevor know or be able to afford Charles Fredericksen on his own?”

“You kept tabs on his case?”

“Yes, because I expected you to aid him out of some misplaced sense of loyalty. I did not expect, however, that he would thank you with his fist,” she answered. “This is about the time _you_ should be thanking _me_ for pulling you out of the shithole that was your life before our meeting.”

“Thank you, Jessica,” he complied. “And you, too, Keith. Now will one of you tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope,” the driver answered amusedly.

“You’ll figure it out soon enough, Mike. Keith, take whichever bridge is easiest.”

“You got it, Ms. Pearson. I think Manhattan is best, so you can catch a glimpse of your fellow cyclists, Mike.”

“Wait, we’re headed into Brooklyn? Are you taking me with you to a client party out in the Hamptons?” her associate questioned. If he had a tail, it would probably be wagging.

“You’re so far off it’s heart-breaking…well, almost as heart-breaking as your face. I need answers to questions I have about Trevor, and there’s only one person I can ask with any certainty.”

“You don't mean-”

“Yes,” she grinned evilly. At least Mike was quick on the uptake (after he’d been given a hint or two).

“No. No, this is not okay; I think I can feel the sky falling. Keith, you’ve gotta turn the car around now. Drop me off wherever but just don’t let Jessica meet-”

“Orders are orders, Mike. Sit back and enjoy the ride,” the driver smirked, locking the doors electronically.

\-----

Edith Ross arrived back at her room earlier than usual for a Sunday, but then she’d only been able to guilt trip the handsome male nurse into accompanying her and the other two women to church. He’d faked a call on his cell phone and ordered them back to the hospital with him before brunch, ruining the chance for her to see if he’d be any good for Michael (in case his relationship with Harvey didn’t last).

But she wasn’t too concerned about that, since he’d most likely faked his “emergency” to spend more time with the senior partner. Michael was young, though, and she didn’t want to clog up all his time worrying after her when he’d already wasted enough of his life hanging around Trevor. He might need to look after her more when she got old old, but that wouldn’t be for a while yet.

So she shuffled into her bed and flicked on the television. Maybe there’d be something about lemurs or platypuses on the animal channel – anything to avoid those dreadful group crafting activities in the recreation room. You could only introduce yourself to a patient with Alzheimer’s so many times before the act became frightfully depressing.

_“Ms. Ross, you have a visitor.”_

“You must have the wrong room, Doreen. Michael isn’t coming today,” she shouted back into the speaker in the ceiling.

_“No, he’s here. But you might want to prepare yourself because he’s not quite his normal self. Or alone, for that matter.”_

Edith didn’t have time to make heads or tails of that last bit, because there was a knock at the door. A middle-aged African American woman entered, followed by-

Good heavens.

“Hi, Grammy,” he greeted sheepishly. He had no fewer than five welts on his face and he looked as beat up as a bag of walnuts after an encounter with a rolling pin in preparation for making her special cookies.

“Don’t ‘Hi, Grammy’ me, mister. You will explain yourself…after you’ve introduced your friend first.”

“This is Jess…Ms. Pearson, Grammy.”

“I wish our first meeting didn’t have to be necessitated by such unfortunate circumstances, Ms. Ross. Feel free to call me Jessica, by the way,” she offered, holding out her hand. The woman had a strong shake, and it confirmed Edith’s feelings about the woman from Michael’s work stories.

“Edith; it’s a pleasure either way, Jessica. Now who hit you, Michael?”

“…Trevor.”

“I thought you broke contact with him. You made a promise to me, Michael-”

“I know, Grammy. He was waiting in my apartment yesterday morning when I got back from…a friend’s place.” (Edith had to suppress an eyeroll at that lame dodge, considering the company.) “I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of Mildred and Rebecca, so I made up that excuse about a work emergency.”

“It seems we have a common enemy, Edith. I tried to stop Mike from helping Trevor when he was in lock-up, but his loyalty sometimes borders on naiveté.”

“That it does, but Trevor Evans is as pernicious and tenacious as kudzu. Michael, would you please set up the checker board?”

“Uhhhhh, okay, Grammy.”

“The thing you need to know about Trevor, Jessica, is that without Michael he’s dumb. Predictably dumb. It doesn’t surprise me that he’s lashing out now that his best source of ideas isn’t around anymore.”

“Do you think he’d be able to track down Mike if I had him move to a different apartment?”

“He’d still find him through sheer luck. You’ll probably need to send Trevor off to Rikers or out of New York state altogether before we can relax. All ready, Michael?”

“Yup.”

“Good. If you wouldn’t mind, could you give Jessica and I some privacy? They have those Ho-Ho knockoffs that you like in the cafeteria today.”

“Wait. Grammy-”

“Just give us ten minutes alone, _Michael_ ,” Jessica lambasted.

Michael shot a couple nervous glances their way, but eventually acquiesced when his stomach growled. He knew better than to try to refuse a request from his guilt-tripping Catholic grandmother.

“Thank you, Jessica. I know what you’ve done for Michael, and I know he’s not just a ‘legal consultant’ at your firm, either. You’ve gone out on quite a limb for his sake,” she began, sliding the first piece out toward the middle of the board.

“I figured he got his brains from somewhere,” she replied, mirroring her move. “He was the best candidate to be my associate by far, even without a degree. Though I get the sense that without Trevor he would have ended up where he is, regardless.”

“Probably. If I hadn’t had to work so much when he was young I could have taken him to soccer practices or rehearsals and helped him make better friends. As it was, the weekly trip to the library was the most I could manage.”

“With his brain, he probably would’ve read the labels of soup cans in the grocery store to occupy himself.”

“He did that with boxes of detergent at the laundromat once,” Edith remembered fondly. “Now I hope you haven’t stripped him of all his optimism already. After losing his parents so young and the years he spent just existing as a bike messenger, it’s a miracle he still has any.”

“That’s my favorite thing about him, Edith. He never went through the meat grinder at Harvard, so he never got jaded like everyone else,” she pointed out, capturing one of Edith’s pieces in the process.

“Good. Don’t let it go to waste. Now the other thing about Trevor you need to know is: he’s small-time. From what I’ve coaxed out of Michael, the idiot mostly deals pot and…whatever the drugs are that college students take to study for exams. He doesn’t have very much pull and he certainly doesn’t have an entourage.”

“So you’re saying that I might be able to scare him off by giving him a taste of what could happen if he got caught up in something bigger?”

“Perhaps. If only John were still alive, he’d show that good-for-nothing what for…”

“How old was Mike when-”

“Old enough to understand, but too young to have the resources to face it head on. Michael hides it well, but there’s still plenty of resentment over everything that happened afterward. I should warn you: if he ever comes across the attorney who represented us in the insurance case he might lose his head.”

“That’s good to know, although my chances of winning this game seem to be slipping away,” Jessica admitted, losing two pieces in one attack and having to crown Edith’s. “I’m more of a chess player, myself.”

“They’re different outlooks on life. Some can plan for events turns and turns in advance, saving this piece or that piece based on what they think might happen. Others forego trying to map everything out and act passionately, even when doing so makes them vulnerable,” she commented. “But the ability to show vulnerability is really a display of strength, not weakness. I think Michael is just starting to get that.”

“If I could, I’d hire you to replace some of the dunces in the associates’ pool.”

“I’m afraid that would have an adverse effect on Michael’s productivity,” Edith laughed, pouncing her king over the last of Jessica’s forces. “Speaking of which, since you’ve come all this way, would you like to have some copies of his childhood photos?”

“I do need some better motivation for when he gets whiny.”

“I thought you might. There’s an extra of him with his stuffed panda, Tyson, in that album; I took him to the zoo when he was four and we couldn’t leave the gift shop until I bought it for him. He slept with it every night until he turned thirteen. I think he still has it at his apartment, actually.”

The two women cleared the game board so that they could pore over the entire stash of pictures. Edith explained the context of each while Jessica slipped the most damaging ones into her bag. They’d scarcely closed the album and hidden it away again before Michael returned. His face morphed from anxious to petrified when they grinned up at him.

“Why are you both smiling so much? Was the game a draw?”

“Michael, we still need to have a proper conversation ourselves. You’re not going back to your apartment tonight, are you?”

“No. I booked him a room at the Chilton until we’re sure he’s not in any more danger. But for now, I’ll give you two some privacy. Edith, it was lovely to meet you. I insist that you stop by the office sometime soon; I’m sure Mike’s colleagues would get a real kick out of talking to you,” she predicted. “Mike, I’ll be out in the car with Keith when you’re ready.”

“What did you two talk about? And seriously, who won the game?” her grandson pleaded once she’d left.

“Uh-uh, Michael. You’ll have to ask Jessica about that. Now, did you remember to put ice on your wounds to stop the swelling?” Edith asked, determined to dote on him a little.

\-----

“What do you think, Rachel?”

“He’s too pale for mine, too, even after the mysterious tan he got that he still won’t explain to me,” the paralegal replied.

“Y’know, I’m sitting right here. Like RIGHT here,” Mike moaned, obviously uncomfortable at all the attention his injuries were drawing to his face.

“Hush. We’re trying to disguise your bruises, so we could really do without the petulance,” Wendy warned menacingly with an eyelash curler. “I didn’t want to have to resort to this, but I think we need to get Donna.”

“On it,” Rachel replied, exiting her office and heading off to the redhead’s desk. Wendy shut the door behind her to hide her boss’ battered associate; they’d lowered the blinds on the glass wall the moment they came in.

“If Jessica is banning me from helping with the depositions today and sticking me in the file room, why do I even need makeup?”

“Because a client might see you in the hallway and get the wrong idea about managerial practices here. Or you could cause a scene with your peers and distract them from any discovery work they might have. Now stop acting like a toddler who needs a cartoon character Band-Aid and a lollypop.”

“I am not-”

“Okay, what’s the problem, Rachel?” Donna inquired as the paralegal returned to the office. “I need to reschedule Harvey’s 3:00 and…and there’s the problem right there. Holy crap.”

“Can you make him passable?”

“I can make him look decent; as for his demeanor-”

“That’ll have to be good enough. Okay, we need foundation and concealer, but I think we can forego primer based on the time constraints.”

“What, no rouge or mascara?” the blond asked sarcastically.

“We’re trying to hide a couple black eyes and some swelling, not pimp you out for a night in Atlantic City, Mike,” Wendy castigated him. “And that tie does not work alongside red cheeks. Didn’t Rene teach you anything?”

“I am perfectly capable-”

“Stop talking. The more you move your face, the more you’ll end up looking like a drunken clown,” Donna warned. “Rachel, can you get me the bigger brush? We’re going to need to cover a lot of brow line.”

“Here. I’ll get to work trying to blend in the scab below his lip.”

“Good. Wendy, can you bring over the pink case? I think I might be able to use complementary colors to obscure the worst bruising.”

The three women worked frantically, each assuming responsibility for a swath of the blond’s face. Thankfully, their canvas remained still for much of the process, allowing them to avoid making any garish errors.

“He’s starting to look normal again,” Rachel commented, pulling back to assess their efforts. At that, Mike folded his arms and stomped his feet a couple times.

“He’s still cranky, though. Rachel, I think you and I should go and make us some tea while Donna finishes fixing him.”

\-----

“You need to tell Harvey,” Donna instructed as she applied concealer to another trouble spot on his left eyelid not long after the other two women left.

“I can’t. At least, not yet.”

“He’s going to freak out more the longer you wait. Look, I’m not going to frog-march you into his office, but if he asks me where you are, I’m not going to lie, either.”

“Donna, he wouldn’t want to know what happened to me. He hates personal stuff, and my appearance basically screams that I had a personal shit explosion.”

“Mike, you’re being stupid. He likes you for more than your enormous dong,” Donna confessed, earning a blush from the man. “And no, he didn’t tell me about that. I’m Donna, yadda yadda yadda.”

“It’s my problem. I’ll handle it on my own.”

“You sound just like him sometimes,” she scolded, shaking her head. “We work in a law firm, Mike. A _firm_. Do you know why that is? It’s because a shit-ton of lawyers on a team is a much more formidable force than a hundred tiny law offices operating out of basement apartments in Sunnyside. Honestly, I…Look here’s my final offer to you: I’ll buy you some time to pick your words; tell him what happened, and if he blows his top I’ll get him to take your concerns into account.”

Donna read the man’s body language and realized she still hadn’t convinced him. The little pipsqueak could be stubborn when he wanted, and just like her boss, he’d probably grow more obstinate the longer she tried to persuade him to be reasonable.

“I’ll think about it, Donna.”

“Think about what, Mike?” Rachel asked, pushing the door to her office open with her butt while holding two paper cups.

“I’m trying to get him to come back for more yoga,” Donna covered, wagging her finger to stop the associate from contesting the lie.

“Yes! You can never do enough yoga, Mike. Besides, Jill had a blast having a guy in the class,” the paralegal cooed. “But for now, can I have my office back?”

“Right. I’ve got to get back to Harvey before he notices I’m gone,” Donna explained, gathering up her cosmetics and exiting.

Unfortunately, her boss was sitting at her desk when she arrived.

“Where were you?” he demanded, half-serious. “Christ, where is anyone? It’s like everyone’s decided to hide from me ever since I got back from Philly.”

“Are you referring to your favorite boytoy?” she mocked, shooing him out of her seat with her bag.

“He’s a grown man, Donna. But yes – I tried to call him five times and I left him as many messages.”

“I will tell you where he is after lunch when you actually have enough time to go and see him, but you have to promise me that you’ll stay calm.”

“I’ve got ice water in my veins, Donna. You know that,” Harvey argued, causing Donna to roll her eyes at her monitor. “Just tell me where he is.”

“Later.”

“Donna.”

“No. And you’d better keep your word if you want me to be the one to tell Jameson that he can’t meet with you this afternoon when you double-booked a time slot,” she warned the man. “Never try to manage your schedule by yourself again.”

“Fine, I’ll wait. It doesn’t bother me at all,” Harvey replied. It was the least convincing lie he’d ever told her.

\-----

At 12:30 on the dot Harvey walked out to Donna’s desk and extracted the information he’d wanted all morning. He couldn’t have even searched the office for Mike if he’d wanted: there’d been just enough time between meetings to give Harold his next set of tasks and prepare them both for the next one. Having such a full schedule was a sign of success as a partner, but it was also a nuisance when all he really cared about was figuring out if he’d done something to anger the rookie.

He had just enough sense not to sprint down the hallways, instead adopting an elongated trot that could pass for appropriate. Once he’d slipped into the dusty room, though, he abandoned all pretense and rushed toward the table at the back where Mike most likely would be.

“Mike? Can we have a word?” he called out. Making his way past a carelessly stacked pillar of boxes, he could finally see the man in question.

“Mr. Spec…Harvey, now’s not a good time,” he answered without lifting his head from a pile of papers. The lamp on the desk was suspiciously at its dimmest setting.

“Mike, can you at least look at me when you say that? Is something wrong? Did I do something that upset you?” he prompted.

“No. I just need some privacy to get this work done.”

“I’m not leaving until you look me in the eyes and tell me that. I don’t want you to pretend everything is okay if something’s wrong. Why didn’t you answer any of my calls or reply to any of my texts?”

“Harvey, I-”

“Here, let me at least turn the lamp up higher so we can see each other,” the older man announced, walking over to the desk and reaching for the switch.

“No!”

The blond’s protestations didn’t stop him, and with the flood of light Harvey could tell there was something wrong with Mike’s face. It was…odd – there were lines where it almost looked like he was wearing makeup. Strange contours that hadn’t been there days earlier delineated an eyebrow and his lips.

“Mike, what happened?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t. Someone hurt you, and now you’re trying to hide. Tell me who did this to you.”

“It’s not your problem, Harvey.”

“It doesn’t matter. Who did it?”

“I’m not answering any of your questions, so you can just go-”

“And I’m not going anywhere until you explain this so that I can help you.”

“I’m taking responsibility for myself and I’m handling it.”

“It looks more like you’re sweeping it under the rug. Would you just tell me what’s going on so I can do something about it?”

“Are you deaf? It’s none of your fucking business, Harvey! It’s _my_ problem, and I’m handling it _on my own_. I can take care of myself; I don’t need you to come swooping in to solve everything for me,” Mike shouted at him. “And you’re a goddamn hypocrite if you think you’d behave any differently if the roles were reversed. Now just go already! Christ.”

Harvey stared at Mike for a moment, resisting the urge to shake the crazy out of him. He’d dealt with enough domestic abuse cases in the DA’s office to know better than to do that, but he was still furious. What the hell had gotten into the blond?

“The next time I see you, you’d better be ready to explain yourself,” he uttered coldly, breezing out of the dirty room and back toward his office. The other blond associate of Pearson Hardman was waiting for him there.

“Mr. Specter, I finished up the first half of the witness information list for the case with Tanner, but I need the password for the Trover database again. I keep forgetting it,” he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head.

“It’s written on the back of the first page of your schedule, Harold. When are you going to get this simple stuff down and act like a real lawyer? It’s been four months and you still can’t even remember a goddamn password.”

“S-s-sorry, Mr. Specter. I’ll get right back to work. I promise I won’t forget it again. I’m really sorry,” he mumbled, fleeing Harvey’s office and making a bee-line for the bathroom.

Harvey collapsed onto the couch and shoved his face into his hands. He shouldn’t have shouted at Harold. Fuck. The revolving door of meetings would start up again in an hour and he wasn’t sure he could calm himself in time for that.

“Harvey, I don’t want to beat a dead horse, but-”

“I know, Donna; I’ll make it up to him tomorrow,” he groaned into his palms. “Just a heads-up: I’ll be leaving work on time tonight – as in 6:30.”

\-----

“Explain.”

Mike froze in his chair for the second time that day; maybe Harold’s skittishness was starting to rub off on him. Still, he was pretty sure that the look on Donna’s face would cause anyone to flinch.

“Huh?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Mike. I don’t know exactly what you said to Harvey, but you will apologize to him for it. Pronto.”

“What’s between Harvey and I is between us.”

“Except that it’s not, because I have to work with the man, and more importantly, so does Harold. Look, I stood up for you when he was in the wrong, but I’m an equal-opportunity sense-beater-into; now it’s your turn to realize how stupid you’ve been. And my Lord have you been stupid.”

“Donna, I’m just doing what Harvey would do if he were in my situation, even if he can’t realize it.”

The redhead took three steps forward, pinning him back against the desk. Mike briefly wondered if she had ever considered becoming the first female army ranger – she definitely could’ve convinced a few generals with that stare.

“I swear, you men are all such idiots,” she judged, retreating a pace and giving him some much needed breathing space. “Harvey is _worried_ about you, Mike. And who wouldn’t be when Bambi shows up at work, pistol-whipped by the hunter?”

“Whoa, whoa there Ms. Hyperbole: I just got punched a few times. Nobody was pistol-whipped.”

“So you claim, although it’s hard to be sure after seeing what you looked like before your makeover. But that’s not what matters,” she started, raising a menacing finger at his forehead, “because you still need to go and fix what you did.”

“Donna, I’m trying to protect you guys. Weren’t you listen-”

“To your bullshit, battered-wife logic? Yeah…no. Get your butt over to Harvey’s condo and apologize for flipping out at him when he was just trying to help.”

“What makes you so sure that he’ll be there?”

Donna raised an eyebrow incredulously before turning for the exit.

“This doesn’t mean anything to you now, but he listened to an entire Coltrane album before he left for home,” she explained, throwing the door open and motioning for Mike to leave.

“I don’t even know what to say. What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Mike asked as he shuffled a stack of loose papers back into a box.

“He will, Mike. He will because he…ugh, you should’ve already figured it out by now. Just go; you don’t pay me enough to coddle you.”

“Sorry, Donna. You’re probably right.”

“‘Probably’ nothing. FYI, you’d better stop by my desk with coffee for Harvey and me tomorrow morning. And if mine doesn’t have cinnamon in it I will hold a grudge, kiddo,” she threatened, jabbing him in the back as he left the dusty cave for the hallway.

Not trusting himself to ride his bike safely, Mike opted for the sidewalk. The morning’s drizzle must have stopped sometime earlier, leaving Mike to contend with the summer humidity and the reflected glare of the setting sun. As he walked among the crowds of commuters, the sweat caused the makeup to run, which in turn made his eyes itch and water. He was sure he’d face a dozen quizzical glances if he raised his head, but luckily he was too worn down for that.

Truthfully, he really didn’t know what to say to Harvey. He thought he knew the man and what he expected of Mike: satisfying sex and a little light conversation. Hadn’t Harvey been the one who wanted to wall off sections of his personal life (and Mike’s – specifically Trevor)? Hadn’t Harvey been the one who’d praised Mike for having the responsibility to face up to problems on his own?

And yet when he’d given the senior partner exactly what he wanted, it’d turned into a shouting match. Why did Harvey give a damn that he’d been pulverized? It wasn’t like they were a couple – Harvey Specter hadn’t even dated since Scottie, as far as he could tell. Even as he nodded his way past the security guard in Harvey’s building the reason for the older man’s prying still eluded him.

On the plus side, however, he had a reasonable case to make to him as to why he should back off and let Mike take care of the problem.

He was all set to do just that, but when the elevator chimed open on the top floor, he heard the tiniest din of music. Mike abandoned his earlier thoughts and followed it, leading him straight to Harvey’s door; only when he rested his ear against the wood could he make it out as some kind of jazz piece.

The band kept up a somber melody for a while before slowly drawing down until only a saxophone’s wailing remained. His agonized solo continued on for many bars, bereftness conveyed through the slow drawl of each low note. Mike ached as he listened, but he couldn’t step away from the door. It was like the saxophonist was trying to cope with the same pain as him – the pain that came from finding someone but knowing they would leave him.

Just like his parents. Just like Trevor. And now, maybe Harvey, too.

With that knife to the chest, Mike weighed the option of fleeing back to his hotel room. As it turned out, however, Mike wasn’t even allowed that choice; the door swung open in front of him and Harvey nearly bowled him over, a full garbage bag in his hand.

“It’s basic manners to let someone know you’ve arrived at his place instead of loitering around in the hallway,” the brunet remarked caustically when they’d regained their footing. He walked past Mike and dumped the bag in the chute.

“And hosts are supposed to treat their guests with some hospitality,” Mike replied, not moving from his spot near the door.

“If you’re not ready to tell me everything that happened between Saturday morning and today then you can just get right back on one of those elevators and leave. I’m not one for being shouted at twice in a day.”

“Harvey, you agreed that we wouldn’t talk about Trevor-”

“That’s too bad, because battery is an infringement of that contract. Trevor was the guy that did this?” Harvey pried as he returned to the door to his condo.

“…Yes. Are you happy now?”

“No, I’m not happy! What is wrong with you, Mike?!” the older man seethed. “I’m angry. Goddamn pissed, actually. You got your ass handed to you by someone you know while I was out of town, and the first thing you thought was: ‘I know, I’ll just avoid Harvey. Better yet, I’ll yell at him when he asks me what happened’?”

“I didn’t tell you because I thought that you didn’t want to know about that kind of thing. And more importantly, I’m trying to keep you out of it now because I don’t want to bog you down with something that’s not your responsibility.”

“If I’m asking, Mike, that means I want to know. Just get inside,” he ordered, pushing the door open and kicking off his loafers. “I need to get a better look at your face and the lighting out there is awful.”

“Harvey, I-” But Mike stopped himself and followed the older man into the apartment.

“Jesus, it’s even worse than I thought it was,” Harvey stated, raising a hand and experimentally tapping Mike’s eyebrow. The younger man jerked back from the pain of the contact. “Fuck. Take off your shoes and wait here.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m getting a washcloth,” the brunet called out as he made for the bathroom.

Mike untied his Oxfords and dropped his bag on the floor next to them, feeling a bit like a scolded puppy. He pulled one of the stools out from under the bar and took a seat while he waited for the older man to return.

“It’s really not that bad,” Mike persuaded hopelessly when Harvey reappeared in the kitchen. “It looks worse than it feels.”

“You’re not that good of an actor, Mike. Lift your head up,” the brunet commanded. “Good. I’m going to wipe off all of this crap as carefully as I can, but let me know if I hurt you accidentally.”

“Got it.”

“Who had the bright idea of smearing you up like a drag queen?”

“I’ll have you know I’ve met a number of gorgeous drag queens in my life.”

“Make stupid jabs later and answer my questions now,” Harvey warned, pulling back to stare down the blond’s first counter.

“Jessica had the idea, but we don’t exactly have the same skin tone.”

“That’s putting it rather mildly.”

“You don’t get to be sassy if I’m not allowed that privilege,” Mike warned, sticking his tongue out at the older man. Unfortunately, Harvey decided to double down and wiped the makeup-smattered cotton across the tip of it. “Gross!”

“You made it way too easy. Now who exactly tried to hide your injuries?”

“Wendy, Rachel, and Donna did. They used Donna’s makeup to try and make it less noticeable, even though Jessica stuck me in the file room for the day…ah!”

“It looks like that eye took the worst blow. When did it happen?” Harvey pivoted, walking over to the sink to rinse off the washcloth.

“Saturday morning.”

“Right after I left?”

“Pretty much. I got back to my apartment and he…”

“Trevor was waiting outside your door?” Harvey pushed, returning to his endeavor with the dampened cloth.

“No, he was inside my apartment. He got the super to unlock it for him,” Mike corrected.

“Is he your ex-boyfriend?”

Mike burst out into laughter, leaning away from Harvey until he’d nearly fallen from his perch. The idea of himself getting involved in a romantic relationship with Trevor of all people was just too preposterous.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

“We were really good friends. Actually, he was just about my only friend for most of my life…ever since the fifteenth day of second grade when he switched into my elementary school from over in Queens,” Mike admitted. It was only at times like these that he realized just how isolated he was. “After my parents…he was always there for me.”

“Mike, I-” Harvey struggled, eventually settling on a loose hug; it caught the younger man off guard. “I’m starting to get why you didn’t want to talk about this. But I need to know, okay?”

“All part of being a controlling bastard, right?”

“Being protective comes with being controlling,” the older man chuckled. “I think I’ve gotten all that crap off your face. I don’t suppose you’ve already eaten?”

“Nope. I didn’t even have lunch; I pretty much just wanted to stay and hide in the stacks of boxes.”

“What am I going to do with you?” Harvey smiled from the corners of his mouth. “Alright, give me a hand with making dinner while we continue our conversation.”

“Harvey, it’s a Monday night – I thought I only came over for visits on the weekends?”

“Are you still in second grade?”

Mike rolled his eyes and the brunet went in for a spank, but stopped at the last moment. The look of concern on the older man’s face brought back the severity of the previous moment.

“It’s okay, Harvey. I’m not going to freak out if you spank me a little. I know the difference between that kind of contact and a punch to the face.”

“Still, I should probably hold off on that,” Harvey stated, retreating to the door of the pantry and withdrawing a box of noodles. “So was this a surprise thing? With Trevor, I mean.”

“Kinda. We were growing apart anyway, but then he asked me to courier the drugs that got me in the interview room with Jessica. She told me to break off contact with him and so I returned the briefcase full of pot to his apartment and blocked his number,” Mike explained, digging around for one of the larger pots.

“He beat you up just for that?”

“No. A little while back he called me from jail and asked me to bail him out. It was during a meeting with a client and I told Jessica about it. She advised me to leave him in there, but-”

“But you felt like you owed him?” Harvey predicted, retrieving a cutting board from one of the cabinets underneath the stovetop.

“Yeah. So I paid for an attorney, Fredericksen, to get him out of prison time. But Trevor was still upset that I didn’t go to him, and to be honest I feel like a shitty person for that, too.”

“You hired Charles Fredericksen? That guy bills his clients two hundred an hour, Mike,” Harvey exclaimed in shock. “If he beat you up then you don’t owe him anything.”

“He’s always been there for me, Harvey.”

“Mike, people change – for better and for worse – but you’re not alone anymore. You’ve got your grandmother, Jessica, Wendy, Keith, Rachel, Harold, Ray, and Donna,” Harvey listed as he chopped vegetables. “Hell, I bet even Louis or Steve would go to bat for you in this case.”

“And you?”

“I thought that went without saying,” Harvey moaned. He leaned in for a kiss, but the pressure on Mike’s still sore lip made him wince. “Jesus. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright. It’s nowhere near as bad as it was on the weekend.”

“I have an ice pack you can use while you’re here. Do you want me to go and get it?”

“Nah. The last of the swelling should stop soon.”

“Still, you need to eat something if you’re going to recover back to normal. Are you okay with mushrooms in your pasta?” Harvey asked.

Mike shook his head dismissively.

“Is that a negative?”

“No, it’s just funny – shrooms. In situations like this in the past, right about now would be the time I’d get stoned. Then I’d head over to Trevor’s place…”

“Don’t think about that too much,” Harvey instructed quickly, patting his arm. “I’d go out and get some hash for you, but that wouldn’t be good for either of us. Especially me: Jessica would have my head for enabling her little flying monkey.”

Mike narrowed his eyes and tossed some of the diced tomatoes at the brunet’s head, initiating a short (but satisfying) food fight with the strangely patient man.

\-----

“Hey, what was that music you had on when showed up at the door?” Mike asked from beside the older man on the couch.

Harvey was still busy working over what he’d learned during dinner and didn’t answer him. Mike had talked through enough of the grief Trevor caused him for the brunet to know how badly he wanted to beat the bastard senseless. Not only had the asshole introduced Mike to pot, convinced him to sell tests to scrounge up money for said pot, gotten him kicked out of college weeks before graduation, and made him a sub-contractor for his drug dealing enterprise, but he’d even attacked him on some trumped-up bullshit two days ago.

Had he not been worried about alienating the younger man and driving him back into the arms of his abusive former friend, Harvey would be setting an appointment for his fist and Trevor Evans’ mug to meet.

“Earth to Harvey,” Mike called out, waving a hand in front of the older man. “Anyone there?”

“I heard you, Mike.”

“And?”

“That was a band that performed with my dad.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“Mike, we tore up that agreement, remember? You can ask about simple stuff…but don’t dig too deeply, okay?”

“Was he the one playing the sax?”

“Yes. He played Alto and Tenor, and he could fill in for the clarinetist when she was sick,” he sighed. “Why? Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it was nice. When I got off the elevator I was ready to yell at you again to mind your own business, but I got caught up in it,” the younger man admitted.

“Then I guess he’s still helping me out, huh?”

“Do you have a lot of his songs?”

“C’mon,” the older man announced, patting Mike’s thigh to get him to follow. He led the way over to the built-in shelves lined with records and pressed the button that opened the fake wall hiding the grand piano.

“Holy crap. Is the Bat Cave hidden underneath your bed or something?” Mike asked, awestruck.

“No, but my blankets from Krypton are tucked away in the second-lowest shelf of my dresser,” he joked as he searched for the particular record he had in mind.

“Yeah, I don’t think so. Superman is a little too high a star for you to reach, Harvey. Maybe Solomon Grundy?”

“Watch it, rookie,” Harvey shot back, finding the right sleeve and heading for the record player. “Although you’d probably look better in spandex than me. Speaking of which, you don’t still have your wrestling singlet from high school, do you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Mike sang as he sat down at the bench and lifted the cover for the keys. “Wait, is it alright to play this at night?”

“Stop worrying. All the penthouse condos are ninety-nine percent soundproofed,” the brunet assured him. The player started up and he made his way to the piano, scooting the blond over on the bench to make room for himself. “Now it’s time for your first lesson. Dad recorded this in 1992 with a band called Freeform Undulations, but the pianist’s part didn’t come through clearly, so I’ll fill in for her.”

“Because you’re a master pianist yourself?”

“Go ahead and be jealous. Everyone else is,” the brunet laughed, moving his bare feet over the pedals as the first song started.

Harvey hadn’t played for anyone but himself in ages. His one-night stands usually had other activities on their minds, and Marcus had forgotten his oboe the last time he’d visited. Predictably, though, he didn’t feel any pressure with Mike – not even after he misplaced an F-sharp for an F during the coda of the second piece and the blond had flashed him a smug grin.

Of course he would catch a slip-up like that.

When his father started on his solo in the third track, Harvey wrapped his arms around the man beside him and just held him there. It felt so right – so, so right that it almost distracted him from the fact that someone had assaulted Mike and now was walking around scot-free. The brunet didn’t release the other man even when the rest of the band started playing again.

“Harvey, as much as I like this, I think I’d better get going. We still have work tomorrow.”

“You’re not going back to your apartment, are you?” Harvey asked, not bothering to disguise the concern lacing his voice.

“No, I’m staying at the Chilton – Jessica had me get a room there.”

“Why don't you just stay here instead? At least for a little while.”

“Harvey, what? I told you what happened to me isn’t your responsibility. I don’t want to impose my problems on you.”

“Stop worrying about that. Paying some ridiculous bill for a nasty hotel room isn’t your responsibility, either.”

Mike sat silently and Harvey got up to put away the record, not able to stand the anxiety of waiting. When he returned to the bench to re-cover the keys, the blond was still pensive.

“One condition.”

“Anything. Just tell me.”

“I sleep in the guest bedroom. I don’t want to freak either of us out by forcing us into a situation that feels more serious than we want it to be,” he reasoned.

Harvey sighed and considered it for a bit, eventually nodding. He didn’t really give a damn about whether or not having Mike stay with him was beyond the scope of whatever this was, but he also knew that Mike was probably putting on a brave face and would need time to sort through his internal battles.

“I’ll get some clothes you can wear to bed and you can hang up your suit like usual. All your toiletries are in my bathroom, but there’s shampoo and soap in the guest shower.”

“Right.”

“I can have Ray pick up anything you need from your apartment or hotel room tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, that’d be good. Thanks for putting me up, Harvey.”

“Mike, you don’t have to thank me for this,” the older man corrected. “And in the future, when something happens…I want you to tell me. No matter what, okay?”

“Harvey-”

“Please, Mike?”

“Okay.”

Once they’d finished getting ready for bed, Harvey pulled Mike in for a final embrace before allowing him to leave for the guest room. He closed the door behind him and turned out the lights. Submerged in the darkness, it hit him how badly he’d erred by not fighting against that one damned condition. Even Tantalus hadn’t had it as bad as he did now.

Sighing again, he slipped between the cold sheets and rolled from side to side. He began to stroke himself absentmindedly after a few sleepless minutes, but gave that up when it failed to bring about any pleasure. Ultimately, he reached for one of the pillows on the far side of the bed and tucked it between his arms. It wasn’t as good as holding Mike by a long shot, but it was the best alternative available to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jones, Zane & Paulsen Cosmetics - Stay still and you might end up looking decent.


	15. Desperate Times

Mike awoke early the next morning. The sheets on the bed in the guest room were just as ridiculously comfortable as the ones in Harvey’s bedroom, but his face still ached and he couldn’t sleep on his back for any decent duration of time.

It was just as well. He’d need to change at the office again, and he didn’t want Louis or Kyle to catch him in the act. The junior partner would already be on his case for not being at his desk the previous day. Mike pushed that miserable thought aside, stifled a yawn, and made for the kitchen.

“Mike, you’ve got another hour before you need to be up. Go back to bed.”

“Holy Jesus!” Mike shouted, once again caught off guard by the ninja senior partner. “What are you doing up, Harvey?”

“I’m heading off for the gym,” the brunet replied; the basketball shorts and black t-shirt he wore served as good evidence for the claim. “But this is fortuitous. Hold on a second, would you?” he requested, retreating to his room.

Mike gazed around and spotted a half-full pot resting in the tray of Harvey’s ridiculously regal coffee maker. Even after spying the older man using it during his previous mornings here, he still had no clue how to operate the thing – the buttons weren’t even labeled. As he poured himself a cup, he reminded himself to get Donna her fancy java on the way to work.

“Here. I meant to give this to you on Friday and then again last night, but now is as good as ever,” Harvey remarked, placing a box on the table and heading for the shoe closet. “Alright, I can’t keep Ray circling the block any longer.”

“Harvey, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“No time to argue, rookie. Just open the box and then try to get some more rest, would you?” he requested, tugging on a pair of athletic shoes. “There’s an extra key there, too. Don’t forget to lock up when you leave.”

“Will you at least answer one question for me?”

“What?” the brunet huffed, reaching for his gym bag.

“I didn’t know you were a Shox guy. Isn’t there some Italian brand that crafts sneakers by hand with the rubber of an endangered species?” Mike jabbed as he trotted toward the door.

“Trust you to ruin the moment,” Harvey scoffed, dodging the blond’s attempt at a hug and instead patting his hair.

When Harvey had left, Mike scoured the pantry for anything quick and easy. True to form, all the cereal was healthy, fiber-enriched nonsense. He grabbed for the box of Autumn Berry, whatever the heck that meant, and made himself a bowl of it. When he sat down with it, he took another glance at the gift box beside him.

It took him all of two seconds to tear the top off of it.

Inside lay a lavender tie interspersed with diagonal blue slashes. It was also regular width and, as Mike felt it, obscenely soft. There weren’t any traces of the price tag, but there was a note hiding amongst the folded silk:

_I heard you drew Judge Foster. Don’t give me a bad name by showing up in front of him twice in those kiddy ties. –Harvey_

Mike smirked at the way the older man had to couch his kindness with an air of nonchalance, but he didn’t know how to feel beyond that. The present made him feel…odd. What exactly was their relationship? Was Mike just Harvey’s boy toy? Did the older man buy stuff like this for all of his one-night stands in the past? Or were they drifting into something deeper…something more meaningful?

He was probably just being overly optimistic.

When he got up to put his bowl in the dishwasher and noted the incomprehensible ordering of glasses on the top shelf, porcelain below it, and flatware in the pullout tray, he felt like he’d never really get used to living in Harvey’s perfect world.

\-----

“You had time to go shopping last night?” Jessica asked her associate as he walked in to their morning meeting. (Two minutes early, she observed – he was starting to get it…finally.)

“Uhh, well I figured I didn’t want to risk testing if Judge Foster’s threat to fine me was real or not,” he replied, tasking a seat next to Wendy. “It’s not too…y’know?”

“It’s a little loud for this time of day, but I think it’ll pass.” The tie was from the same collection Harvey had worn since making junior partner; always subtle, that one. “That’s assuming we appear before Adam. Robert is trying to force him to recuse himself.”

“On what grounds?”

“Whatever tired bullshit he’s tossing at the wall this week, most likely. I don’t think it will work, unless he’s found a way to mine thirty-five years worth of judicial records, but then he doesn’t have you. Wendy, you were telling me about Louis’ latest farce-”

“He and Carole are having it out again. As far as I can tell, there wasn’t any actual inciting event this time, but with those two-”

“He must have too much free time. You haven’t been helping him out more than usual, have you, Mike?” she inquired, shifting her seat so she could grab another pile of files for his perusal.

“No. I didn’t even get to the task he emailed me yesterday.”

“Good; keep it that way. I’ll find something to keep him occupied so I don’t have to listen to their whining at the next partners’ meeting. Anything else?”

“Someone tried to hack into our digital archives, and there was an attempted DDoS on the main webpage. I’m having Benjamin in IT figure out who it was and how to stop them in case it’s worse next time.”

“Just as long as our clients’ information wasn’t compromised. Oh, and while it’s on my mind, make an appointment for a teleconference with that guy out in Vancouver for when I get back,” she instructed, reaching for her bag. “Ready for your second time in court, kiddo?”

“I was born ready,” the blond shot back happily.

“Are you sure about that? Do you want to stop along the way and have a few words with Tyson for courage?” she joked, earning a look that was equal parts terror and shame.

“Who’s Tyson?” Wendy asked, shutting her notepad.

“I’ll be sure to tell you the next time Mike does something stupid,” Jessica promised while waiting as her red-faced associate opened the door for her. Just because he was getting it didn’t mean that he was above “encouragement”. “C’mon, Ross.”

“That was so not okay. I can’t believe you got that out of Grammy; did you blackmail her or something?” he asked as they stepped into the backseat of the towncar minutes later.

“You think I’m not above putting screws to the elderly, Mike?”

“Well FYI: I got rid of that thing years ago, so you can just drop it,” Mike stated, clicking his seatbelt into place. “And don’t think I can’t find out your dirty secrets, either.”

“Good luck with that, Mike,” Keith laughed as he clicked the stereo. Janet Jackson’s _Control_ started pulsing about the dark interior of the car. “I bet not even the president could get so much as a dorky school photo.”

“Damn straight,” Jessica agreed, already enmeshed in an email. “On a more pressing topic, your bruises have gotten a little less noticeable. If anyone asks, just tell them the truth and if they ask you whether you filed a report, change the subject.”

“Just like you’re trying to do now? I’m not going to forgive you if you use the memory of Tyson against me,” Mike swore, tilting his head towards the window.

“Duly noted. Now give me five legitimate grievances Robert could use to extract a recusal from Judge Foster.”

“Uhh, the obvious one is favorable bias of some kind, but he probably wouldn’t go for that. He might try misconstrue one of the ginormous donations you make to the NY Bar Association as a bribe. Or maybe he’ll point out the blackmail of which you suddenly seem so fond,” Mike fired off, still not looking at her.

“That’s only three.”

“Did a Pearson Hardman employee clerk for him in the past? Or maybe the other way around?”

“Four.”

“Uhhh, a personal issue between the two of them…like one beat the other at a round of golf and he didn’t get over it? It’s probably something we won’t see coming – at least I won’t see it. You might.”

“I’ve never lost a case in front of Adam,” Jessica muttered, busily typing out a threatening email to Carole.

“Y’know, you don’t need to brag in front of me. I get it – you’re Kali slash Durga slash Parvati.”

“Considering my brilliance, I figured you’d go for Saraswati or Kannon,” Jessica smiled at her associate. “I meant that Robert will try to contest that record as being impossible without some kind of underhanded agreement.”

“Is it?”

“No. I’ve never lost a case, period.”

“Okay, that’s definitely impossible. You must have lost one, right?” Mike asked, now looking her in the eyes. “Keith, have you ever driven her to the bar after a tough loss?”

“Nope. But even if I had, I wouldn’t be crazy enough to tell you about it where she could garrote me. We’re almost at our destination, by the way; man I love non-rush hour traffic.”

“Good. The lesson for today, rookie, is that nothing is too glaring for the opposition to try. If you let them play head games with you, you’ll expect them to be better than they are and leave yourself open to something small.”

“You mean like you using my stuffed animal – from when I was a kid, I might add – against me when I was expecting you to make more jokes about my face?”

“Something like that. Look, we’re here,” Jessica announced, freeing herself of the seatbelt and opening the door. “Keith, go get some breakfast for yourself, but stay in the area. I’m getting a bad feeling in my gut.”

“What gut?” Mike asked, following from the other side of the car.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Ross,” Jessica smirked.

Someone was waiting for them at the top of the steps, and even through the glare of the rising sun Mike could tell that whoever it was, it wasn’t Zane. As they drew closer, he recognized the woman from their previous encounter.

“Sorry, Jessica, but you’re a little late. Foster was booted from your case an hour ago in an emergency meeting of his peers.”

“Dana Scott? I had the distinct impression that you’d flown back to London weeks ago.”

“No, happily I didn’t. You’re now being heard by Judge Fullman. Well, ‘we’ are being heard by Judge Fullman. Robert had the intelligence to ask Darby International to co-chair his side, and since I was still on this side of the Pond, I agreed,” she stated, handing Jessica a stack of papers.

“And this has nothing to do with the fact that my first-year saw through your amateurish little attempt to pawn off a bunch of worthless garbage to one of Harvey’s clients?” Jessica pried, skimming through the dense text for the meaning of what she’d been given.

“My only concern is guarding Robert’s clients against your outrageous claims of discrimination, but if I get to put your boy wonder in his place, too, why shouldn’t I?” Scottie parried. “I’ve looked into you, Counselor. Do you like being the plaything that gets passed around between Harvey and Jessica?”

“You’ll address me and not my second chair, Miss Scott.”

“I guess he can’t handle it, huh? Anyway, you two had better hurry. Judge Fullman is reviewing the motion hearing from last week in five minutes,” the Darby partner informed, stepping aside to allow them into the courthouse.

“This isn’t bad is it?” Mike asked as he and Jessica made their way up the steps to the third floor. “Are you good terms with Judge Fullman, too?”

“I don’t even know who he is. Hell, I don’t even know if he’s a he or a she,” Jessica muttered, nearly missing a step. “Lesson two for the day: when caught off guard, improvise.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one giving you that lesson, considering how much of that I do anyway?”

Mike opened the door to the courtroom and allowed Jessica to enter first. He nearly plowed into her when she stopped in her tracks upon spotting the judge.

“Shit.”

\-----

Donna was in the copy room when the text came. It had been a rather dull morning, what with Harvey and Harold leaving for a preliminary settlement meeting with Tanner and Rachel being buried up to her ears assisting a partner with a late media mogul’s feuding children. Unlocking her phone, she quickly called the security guard back as she made for the lobby.

“Neither Harvey nor Jessica is here right now, Steve. Couldn’t you have stalled him longer?”

_“Considering his name is on the directory, it’s not like I could have kept him from entering the building. And he said he had urgent legal documents that you guys needed to see.”_

“I’ll let this go since you helped out with my niece’s birthday party, but if he comes back later I expect you think of something to stop him. Now do me a favor and don’t let him breeze in like this again,” she ordered, hanging up so she could warn the two people capable of exorcising the looming threat from the office.

“Donna? You’re here, too,” Wendy commented, standing beside her and turning to face the elevator bank. “Please tell me you have a plan.”

“Maybe. Did you tell Jessica?”

“She’s on her way back from court, and it sounded like she was in a bad mood already.”

“Good, then she’s in the right frame of mind. I was thinking of trying to detour him into a conference room and then having Norma keep him busy while we await the cavalry.”

“What are you two doing just standing around out here?” Louis asked, walking towards the two women. “Just because your bosses aren’t in doesn’t mean you can put your feet up.”

“Louis, go back to your office,” Donna warned, but the ding of one of the doors kept her from adding the necessary humiliating insult to the end of it.

“My goodness, it’s been so long since I’ve been here,” Daniel Hardman admired with a smile. He turned to look at the nameplate on the wall before recognizing the three people waiting for him. “I can see that the absence of a strict disciplinarian has rotted away our productivity. Litt, why aren’t you working?”

“Da-Da-Da…Mr. Hardman, sir. I haven’t seen you in five years and...forty-seven days. Does this mean you’re taking an active role here again?”

“I need to speak with Jessica. Is she still in my office?” he asked of Wendy.

“She’s still in her office, but she’s returning from the courthouse at the moment. There’s an empty conference room, though, if you’d like a place to wait.”

“I wouldn’t want to obstruct any important meetings,” Hardman deflected, beginning to head for the managing partner’s corner of the floor.

“That’s not possible. We instituted a new rule that forbids employees from entering the offices of others while their occupants are absent. Isn’t that right, Louis?” Donna halted him, turning to the junior partner.

“I can’t recall that bylaw-”

“Someone really should have informed Jessica of that proviso, seeing as how she’s been operating from _my office_ for the past five years,” the name partner uttered. “Well, if that’s not possible, I think I’ll greet the associates instead. Louis, I hope you haven’t loosened the reins since you became their overseer.”

“No, Mr. Hardman, sir, I most definitely have not allowed them any leniency. I’ll lead the way for you, sir,” he muttered excitedly.

Leave it to Louis to always mistake which side of his bread was buttered.

“Should we just let him have access to the associates?” Wendy worried, starting to follow the two men.

“No. Go tell Norma to guard Harvey’s office and then block access to Jessica’s. I’ll try to make sure he doesn’t proselytize the greenhorns.”

With that, Donna rushed back to the bullpen. Count Palpatine had already found a chair to stand his short ass on, and now he was addressing the associates. Idiots that they were, all eyes were trained on his scraggy, bearded mug.

“I’m afraid that some of you might not recognize me in the flesh, even if you know my name. I’m the mysterious Hardman of Pearson Hardman that many of you must have wondered about; I’ve been away from the firm for personal reasons, but I hope this is the beginning of my return to active duty.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir,” Kyle announced, brown-noser that he was.

“You must be Mr. Durant. I can see that Louis was right to hire you while I was away. I look forward to meeting the rest of all of you, of course, and toward that end I’ve hired a caterer to bring a decent lunch in for a change: pizza, fresh fruit, and lemonade for our hardest working employees. I trust that won’t be a problem, Louis?”

“No, Mr. Hardman, sir.”

“Wonderful. I expect to see every one of you in the library in roughly a half hour; that’s code for ‘it’s mandatory’, no matter how pressing the case you’re working on currently is,” Hardman grinned. “Louis, would you show me to Wills & Trusts? I’d like to invite some of the partners my little party as well.”

“Daniel, you didn’t tell me that you were dropping by,” Jessica called out. She and Donna exchanged glances while he got down from his perch. “I would have thought that you’d want to see me before anyone else, but I suppose manners are the first thing that go when one sits around the house for five years straight, aren’t they?”

“I’ve been looking after my wife, not just eating bon-bons, Jessica,” he replied. There was a smile on his face, but anyone with eyes could see how pained and unnatural it was. “Shall we meet in my office, then? Or your office – I’m still a little confused about who is the rightful owner of that spot, to be honest.”

“Honesty is generally a confusing issue for you,” the managing partner smirked stealthily. “There’s an empty conference room; I’ll lead the way.”

“Just one moment. Your associate hasn’t introduced himself to me yet,” Hardman observed, turning to Mike.

“No, he hasn’t,” his boss cut in. “Hurry along, Daniel – we don’t all have years to waste.”

\-----

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Harvey growled as he shut the door to the conference room shut behind him, having been alerted to his presence by Donna when he arrived.

“We have intertwined interests. Tanner is coming after both of us and I thought it best to coordinate our responses,” the slimebag answered. He was sitting across from Jessica, who looked equally disgusted. “Perhaps we can strongarm him with the lure of a joint settlement.”

“We are getting sued for shit you pulled, Daniel,” Jessica noted. “And I’ll have you know that once we’ve dealt with Tanner, Pearson Hardman will be suing you to recoup whatever losses, potential or otherwise, it has suffered.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Jessica.”

“Because rules bend for you? You thought that would work when we caught you with your hands in the cookie jar. Remind me how that turned out.”

“If you file a lawsuit against me, everything becomes public. My wife has lapsed into a coma, so I don’t have to worry about her finding out what happened. But you have a lot to worry about if what I did becomes general knowledge. Like how many clients will run for the exit when they realize that you committed a crime in not reporting me,” Hardman scoffed.

“You’re a piece of shit,” Harvey answered first, taking a seat beside his boss.

“Be that as it may, you need my help with Tanner. I’m willing to settle my end of the matter with him for five million, but it will only work if the firm sweetens it with another twenty.”

“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t just hear that ludicrous idea. If that’s all-”

“Not quite. I’m also here to announce my intention to run for managing partner at the next election, which, as you are aware, is in a few weeks.”

“Are you insane?!”

“No, though that would probably help your chances of clinging on to power, wouldn’t it? As I see it, you’re engaging in blunt cronyism and bullying. Take for example your most recent promotion: you picked Harvey for senior partner even though Louis was obviously the better candidate with regards to billables.”

“That’s your solution?- bribe the associates with food and the partners with the lure of promotions? It shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does, though, considering what a pathetic little worm you are,” Jessica insulted as she leaned across the table. “I made a deal with you five years ago for the sake of expediency, but I’m not playing around any more. You can have your little pipe dream candidacy for managing partner, but when I beat you – and I will – I’ll scour the last vestiges of your rotten memory from this firm. More to the point, I reject your offer for a joint settlement, I don’t give a damn about your blackmail threat, and I will have you dragged out of the building by security if you’re not gone by 1:30 this afternoon.”

Hardman grinned at her as he rose from the glass table, collecting his briefcase and exiting toward the library. Donna had stationed herself by the door to make sure he didn’t get near any of the other partners along he way.

“You’re really going to let him throw his party?”

“If I break it up then I’ll be the bitch who snatched pizza out of the mouths of starving children, Harvey. Besides, I already told the receptionists to keep him from making any speeches while he’s in there. Where are we with Tanner?”

“He gave us an offer, but it’s a complete joke. If Harold hadn’t asked to see it during our meeting I probably would have shredded it, but we can use it to stall while we prep our case. I heard you had a rough day in court this morning-”

“I’ll handle it, Harvey. For the time being, though, I need you to keep a low profile. Don’t try to win other partners’ cases and don’t be as much of a braggart as you usually are. I need to hold on to as many votes as I can.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Harvey. I made you a senior partner, and you’d better act like one until we’ve freed ourselves from all this quicksand.”

\-----

“You didn’t even try any of the food, Jessica. C’mon, check out how delicious this pineapple wedge looks,” Mike cried, waving the thing around in front of her.

The managing partner pointedly ignored him as she pored through several pages of the reference work on her desk. He hoped that being his usual irreverent self might cheer her up a little, but he’d had no luck.

“I think this pineapple is actually a pretty good metaphor for you, actually. It’s got this tough exterior, but when you bite into it you realize it’s sweet and nutritious. At least take one bite?” he pressed, thrusting it toward her face.

“Keep it up and I’ll stab you in the hand with the skewer,” she warned. “We just had all our victories snatched from us in court and here you are enjoying victuals from Satan. Why did I hire you again?”

“For one thing, I memorized that book front to back; if you need to know something you can just ask me.”

“What I’m looking for isn’t in this book, Mike.”

“Then why are you searching through it?”

“It doesn’t matter. Go and prep the rest of our depositions.”

“So we’re not going to discuss our contingency plan in case Judge Fullman rules that our class-action must be broken into fifteen separate cases tomorrow?” the associate asked. The senior partner snatched the fruit from his hands when he went for a bite, tossing it in the garbage can. "Hey! What did that pineapple ever do to you?"

“Mike, I’m not in a good place right now, and you are tearing at the last vestiges of my patience. Make sure we have all the right questions for our witnesses and the right objections to anything Zane and Scott might try,” she commanded with a finger. “Don’t bother me for the rest of the day.”

“Okay. I was just trying to lighten the mood a little-”

“Go. Now.”

Excusing the time after they’d gone to visit Jessica’s ex-husband, Mike had never seen his boss so out of sorts. Even Wendy was more volatile, glaring him away from her desk without a single word. Needing a friendly face, he stopped by Rachel’s office and caught her mid-conversation with Harold.

“He complimented me twice today, Rachel! I think he’s going to fire me tonight,” the other associate fretted.

“Someone compliments you and that means you’re going to get pink-slipped?”

“You don’t understand Harvey. He tore me out yesterday afternoon when I forgot the password for the firm’s database and now he’s praising me for keeping him from tearing up Tanner’s settlement offer outright. Did April Fools’ get moved to today this year?”

“Mike, I don’t have time to chat with everyone right now. Is there something you need?” the paralegal prompted, ignoring the curly-haired man with his head in his hands.

“Umm, I just came by to say hello. But I do have a question now that I think of it: do you know a Judge Fullman? She really had it out for Jessica in court today.”

“Judge Fullman…she got married recently. Used to be named Judge Madieros; she’s the first Black Latina on the NY Supreme Court in ten years. Other than that, I don’t know anything about her. Could you do me a favor in return and take Harold with you?”

“If you kick me out now you’ll never see me again, Rachel. Please don’t make me go back to the bullpen,” he whimpered, grabbing onto the edge of her desk. “I don’t want to end up practicing law on Staten Island!”

“For the sake of whatever respect I have for you, Harold, I’m going to write this off as an April Fools’ prank. Now beat it before you get me fired, too,” she reprimanded, loosening his grip while Mike pulled him toward the door.

“Noooooo!”

\-----

Harvey shook out his shoulder as he walked down the hallway to his condo that night. It was late and he’d had to take work home with him, which he despised almost as much as the sight of Daniel Hardman walking around the office. He hadn’t even had the time to ask Donna for advice on what to say to Mike to make him leave the guest room and start spending the night with him.

When he opened the door, the smell of food smacked him the face. He turned the corner and caught sight of Mike standing over the stovetop in a t-shirt and those tight jeans from the night at the play. His pants tightened almost instantly.

“Hey, good timing,” the blond announced, turning to face him with a wooden spoon covered with something cheesy. “Dinner is almost ready.”

“Most associates work later than the partners, Mike,” he joked, removing his shoes and heading in the direction of the aroma. “You’re not sleeping with Jessica to get out early, are you?”

“Ha ha, Harvey. I think living with one of my work superiors is bad enough. About that, actually-”

“What about it?” Harvey asked, hopeful that maybe the blond would resolve their sleeping arrangements on his own.

“I found the number of a broker and I’m going to have him start looking for a new apartment tomorrow. I don’t want to be taking up your guest room for too long.”

The words stabbed Harvey right in his chest.

“Mike, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. You’re safer here than just about anywhere else, and I don’t want Trevor to get another shot at beating you.”

“I know, but it feels weird living in your sky palace,” the younger man commented, spooning his concoction into two bowls. “I’m willing to pay rent while I’m here, by the way.”

“Mike,” Harvey began, turning the blond around to face him, “I don’t mind having you here. And I’m most certainly not going to charge you for your stay, considering the circumstances.”

“Harvey, with all due respect, I kind of mind being here; everything here is so perfect. I’m used to a different kind of environment…I mean I don’t even know how to work the coffee maker. Hell, I don’t even know how to load the dishwasher to your exacting standards.”

Harvey burst out into laughter, ignoring the peeved look it caused on the blond’s face. Here he was worrying that Mike would move out tomorrow over something big and it was just his not knowing how to operate the appliances.

“I’m sorry I didn’t give you the proper orientation this morning. Firstly, all you need to do to make coffee is press the button on the far right and then the second button from the left.”

“Why the hell aren’t the buttons labeled like that, then? And why are there like twenty of them if you only need two?”

“Because I custom ordered it without them and there’s more than one kind of caffeine that I like, respectively.”

“We need to have a chat about your obsession with minimalism. Having bare counters is one thing, but demanding a coffee maker without labels? That’s pretty crazy, Harvey.”

“What’s crazy is how cluttered your apartment is. As for the dishwasher, on the top shelf it’s large glasses on the outer edges to small ones in the middle. Porcelain is as follows: large plates in the back right, small plates in the back left; small bowls sit in the front right and large bowls go in the front left, except the biggest ones, which need to be washed by hand.”

“I think I’ll need to hear that again after we’re done eating. Could you maybe draw a diagram, too?”

“Brat. Did you make a side dish – some fruit or a salad?” Harvey asked, taking another look at the potentially artery-blocking entrée.

“There was plenty of fruit at the luncheon Hardman threw. Didn’t you have any of it?”

“I can’t believe you ate anything that man offered. Get us a couple beers while I slice us off some watermelon.”

“What’s so bad about Hardman? He seems like a decent enough guy; I mean, it’s not like Jessica ever buys food for the associates.”

“Who do you think foots the bill when partners treat their associates to dinner on their expense cards, Mike? What, just because Jessica didn’t personally push the pastry cart into the bullpen nothing she does counts for anything?”

“Most people don’t see the nicer side of her. If I wasn’t her associate I probably wouldn’t think about all the stuff she does for the employees, and it’s not exactly like she advertises any of it,” Mike explained, opening the flatware drawer. “One more question: who the hell has seven different kinds of forks and five different spoons? Seriously, is this one for lobsters from Nantucket and that one for their brothers from Puget Sound?”

Harvey set down the knife and pulled the younger man into his grasp, leaning in to kiss him gently on the less sensitive part of his forehead. His hands took the opportunity to rub the younger man’s back while he held him.

“Like I said, I don’t mind having you here. But insulting my utensils only highlights the fact that you don’t know the difference between a salad fork and a dessert fork – which is what those are, rookie,” Harvey smiled as he pulled back from the other man. “Regretfully, I have work I need to finish tonight, or else I’d give you an thorough introduction to civilization. Now would you hurry up with the beer?”

“I’m pretty sure that any delay is your fault, Harvey,” Mike objected, wagging his tongue. “Oh, and don’t think I don’t recognize you trying to adjust my wardrobe to your standards, too. The tie you got me is nice, but I’m sticking with my skinny ones when I’m not in danger of a fine.”

“Pearls before swine, Mike,” Harvey sighed.

\-----

Mike let loose an enormous yawn later that night. As a reward for Harvey explaining exactly what a low-down bastard Hardman was over dinner, he’d agreed to help him sort through the stack of files he’d brought home with him. But the task was nearly impossible, because instead of searching _for_ something, they were scouring through the firm’s records to _not find_ anything that could tie the former managing partner’s crimes to them.

“Mike, go get some sleep. You’re not even my associate,” Harvey offered, patting him on the back.

“I can keep going now that I know how to make coffee. Want me to make us a pot?”

“No. You need to rest if you want those bruises to go away. I’ll turn in soon, too – I don’t think there’s anything that could tie us to what Hardman did here.”

“You sure? I’m willing to help with the last of this box, at least.”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright,” the blond agreed. As he got up, the older man pulled him back towards the couch and planted another wimpy kiss on his forehead. Mike decided to fix the problem, redirecting his head and pushing their mouths together.

“Mmmmpf,” Harvey protested after a beat, “what about your lips? I thought they were still sore.”

“I can manage with the pain.”

“That’s the not the answer I wanted to hear. Just go to bed.”

“Aren’t we fuck buddies, Harvey? Am I not attractive to you now or something?”

“Of course you’re attractive, Mike,” Harvey declared. “You’re very nearly irresistible. But I don’t want to risk hurting you or delaying your healing.”

“Are you sure about that, Harvey?” Mike asked, turning around to wiggle his butt the way the older man did from time to time. “I think I’m completely irresistible.”

The brunet pulled Mike backwards so that he was sitting in his lap, and the blond could feel the older man’s erection through the two layers of denim. When Mike tried to grind against it, however, Harvey held him in place and merely planted a couple kisses on his neck.

“Mike, get better first and stop tempting me. If you think I’m some kind of saint then you’re sorely mistaken. Believe me when I say that I want you, but it’s not fair of me to act on those urges when you’re still hurt and not thinking straight,” the brunet whispered into his ear. “Tell you what, if you want…”

“If I want what?”

“Never mind; I shouldn’t ask that of you yet. Now will you go to bed and rest off those bruises?”

“Okay,” Mike grinned, “but only because you admitted you’ve got it so bad for me.”

“Not as bad as your face, brat,” Harvey accused, punctuating it with a light spank.

“Oh, so I’m well enough to get spanked now, am I?”

“Move your hiney or there will be more of them,” the older man laughed. “Considering your proclivities, though, maybe I should be threatening to never spank you again. Or fuck your face roughly the way you like it.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Mike huffed, hurrying for the guest room.

\-----

“Keith, thanks for coming early on such short notice.”

“No problem, Jessica. You said you needed to get to the courthouse, right? But I thought it doesn’t open until seven?”

“Officially it’s closed until then, but some of the judges arrive at their chambers early to get admin out of the way before hearing cases. Knowing the woman with whom I want to converse as well as I do, she’ll be there.”

“Is she the judge who’s trying to screw over your clients?” her driver asked, popping a Louis Armstrong CD into the stereo.

“Yes.”

“Any idea why she has it out for you?”

“A prank I pulled at Harvard. I’m going to see if I can acknowledge what I did and get her to see the bigger picture.”

“Jessica Pearson is going fess up to something she did? Should I be playing ‘The World Turned Upside Down’ right now?”

“I know, but I spent last night trying to figure out the best move to take, and then it hit me. Mike manages to get through tough spots by being amiable and frank, so why don’t I do what he’d do in my situation?” she explained, glancing out the window on the still empty sidewalk. “I don’t have his puppy eyes, though. That might keep it from working for me.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the one mentoring him, not the other way around. You aren’t going to get soft on Hardman, too, are you?”

“Hell no. I’m only offering the judge the olive branch as an opening offer; if she doesn’t accept my mea culpa then I’ll give her a world of pain instead. And as for Hardman…well, the less said, the better.”

“That means you’ve got something really nasty planned for him, don’t you?”

“I’m working on my moves.”

Her driver laughed and got her downtown in record time, letting her off at the side of the building near where the judges parked. Luckily the security guard recognized her and allowed her to enter, telling her to hurry up so he didn’t lose his job.

She made her way down the long hallways and past one dust-filled chamber after another. For a brief moment as a first-year law student she’d considered the judge career path, but had opted for corporate instead. The guilt that came with it was easier to stomach knowing that the alternative was a state budget that failed to cover the wages of a single decent janitor.

“Ella?” she called after knocking on the door.

“Jessica? What are you doing here? The courthouse doesn’t open for another fifty-five minutes.”

“Well, we didn’t get a chance to chat during your review of Adam’s rulings on our motions yesterday, and it’s been so long since we’ve spoken.”

“A, it’s Judge Fullman to you. B, that is nothing but horseshit – you’re trying to speak with without opposing counsel present to sway my decisions. I could have you charged with a misdemeanor for even being here.”

“But you won’t, because you want to hear what I have to say.”

“Is that so?”

“I know that you’re still upset over what happened at Harvard. The other girls and I played a prank on you and caused you to miss out on that internship, and I should have known better at the time,” Jessica forced out, though the part of her brain uninfected by Mike’s sunny personality was ready to have an aneurysm.

“I hadn’t even remembered.”

“Now who’s shoveling on the manure?”

“You, for calling what happened ‘a prank’. You forced me to down shot after shot of liquor the night before our interviews with the professor overseeing recommendations. You couldn’t have known better – you planned out exactly what happened yourself.”

“So you do remember?”

“Yes, I damn well remember. You’d think I forget the time I woke up nearly naked in a lecture hall and ruined my chances to get hired with any of the big firms?”

“Except that I didn’t hold those shot glasses up against your mouth, Ella. We invited you out for a drink and you accepted of your own volition.”

“It’s _Judge Fullman_ ,” she corrected. “And you’re still a crafty, conniving bitch; nothing you say is the truth, Jessica. People like you give lawyers a bad name, and I hope you enjoy not being able to sleep at night.

“I came here in hopes that I could get us past this thorny issue-”

“Horseshit.”

“But I can see that won’t work,” Jessica continued, her friendly tone rapidly devolving as she did. “So here’s my second offer: give my clients a fair hearing and I won’t seek your punishment for blatant bias by the Bar. You don’t want me to go down that road, Ella.”

“Horseshit. I am more than ready to go there. You want to know why I’m not afraid? It’s because I’ve never done anything dirty or underhanded to get where I am. So go ahead, lodge a complaint and open us both up for an investigation. The worst I’ll end up with is a meaningless censure, but it’ll be more than worth it to have all your dirty laundry aired for everyone to see.”

“What you’re missing is the actual issue: you are going to allow a major company to screw over my clients just like how we got screwed over at Harvard. The exclusive dinners for friends of the professors we coincidentally were never invited to, the jobs we weren’t selected for because they thought we’d be ‘the bitchy Black one’, the essays that got marked down because we used examples we’d learned from growing up in bad neighborhoods? Does any of that ring a bell? That’s daily life for these women – only worse.”

“I guess they should just learn to step over each other to climb up the corporate ladder. Surely you of all people could instruct them in that.”

“We both succeeded; you’re a judge on the fast track to join the Court of Appeals and I’m managing partner of the best firm in the city. And we got where we are because someone down the line finally allowed us to compete based on merit. That’s all I want from you: for my clients to get a fair ear for their grievances.”

“Jessica Pearson pleading for fairness; I hope Satan remembered to throw some salt down on his driveway this morning.”

“Except I’m not pleading on my own behalf, and I don’t have to plead. For instance, I could write a fat check to the governor for his re-election war chest. Plenty of my peers do – Zane included – although I’ve never had to resort to such desperate measures myself. But for the sake of forcing a judge’s term to expire without reappointment, however, I might change my mind.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“For now I am. Agree to recuse yourself while I’m still in a lenient mood.”

“I can still drag in you in front of the Bar with me if you try to have me punished.”

“Your point is?”

“I will take myself off this case only when you agree to do the same,” she threw out, folding her arms and leaning back in her leather chair.

“What?”

“I may have unconsciously restricted the limits of my impartiality in court the other day, Jessica, but you are the attorney of record for the respondent’s competition. Ergo, posing the question of whether or not Pearson Hardman should have handled discovery directly is valid. The only way there can be a fair ruling on the matter is if we both step away from this case,” she declared. “Have one of your employees take over for you, and I’ll hand the matter to one of my colleagues.”

“And the fact that a managing partner recusing herself from her own case is humiliating is just an unforeseen consequence, correct?”

“You don’t know the first damn thing about humiliation, _counselor_.”

Were Hardman not battering down the door, and were it not Zane on the other side of the case, Jessica never have accepted such a proposition. But she knew the severity of the predicament she and her firm were in, so she consented to the other woman’s demand.

“For what it’s worth, Ella, I’m not sorry about what I did. In fact, I’d do it again if given the chance,” she admitted from the doorway. “Nothing you can do to my clients or employees will ever change that, so don’t try to screw them over in place of me again.”

\-----

From: Jessica (215-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 6:32 AM

_I’m handing Dirastacco’s over to Louis to focus on another matter. You’ll second-chair for him, so I need the two of you in my office at 7:15 to discuss relevant details._

From: Jessica (215-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 6:34 AM

_No whining._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First: Sorry about getting this up later in the day than usual. Memorial Day weekend was a bit hectic and I needed more time to bang this chapter out than I thought I would.
> 
> Second: I skipped the actual courtroom scene to avoid repeating myself too much, but I'm not sure I explained the grudge between Jessica and Ella adequately for those who haven't watched that episode; if you're in that camp I think maybe the show's wiki or a fan recap might aid you.


	16. Action and Reaction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there's some smut near the end. If you don't want to read that stuff, avoid the second half of the penultimate section.

“Stay calm and just chew on that aspirin, okay, buddy? EMS is on the way and you’ll be at Presbyterian in no time.”

“Do they treat Catholics?”

“They treated my grandmother,” Mike assured, opening another button on the man’s shirt to allow him to breathe while they waited. He didn’t have any clue to do now, since his knowledge of heart attack emergency treatment consisted of about three proactive measures. “You’re not having any trouble breathing are you?”

“If you’re after some mouth-to-mouth, I’m afraid you’re out of luck, kid,” the elderly man replied with a chortle.

Given the circumstances, Mike decided to let that hypothetical accusation go. If the patient had a sense of humor and was aware of his surroundings, that was a good sign…right? It definitely worked that way on medical shows on television.

“Mike, is he going to be alright?”

“Louis, I need you to go out into the hallway and wait there. You’re still panicking and the two of us are trying to stay calm,” Mike stated, careful not to rile the man he was cradling upright in his arms.

“Look, I’m first chair on this case, and I think I should be the one giving orders-”

“Louis, the newbie is right. You need to get your hide out of here,” Robert Zane chimed in, pulling the junior partner away from the witness stand and towards the exit. Paramedics rushed in the moment the doors started to swing shut behind them.

“When they told me I’d have to testify in court, I never thought it’d end up with a trip to the hospital.”

“Hey, look on the bright side: you just got yourself a good week away from the office. Heck, if HR tries to take them out of your sick days, I’ll represent you in court myself,” Mike promised, stepping back to allow the professionals to do their thing. “Just remember to tell them your allergies and medications like I had you remember earlier.”

“Thanks, kid,” the old man uttered before a woman in a jumpsuit ended the conversation by clearing her throat.

Mike moved back to the complainants’ table and gathered up his belongings. When he’d jumped over it five minutes earlier, he’d sent his pens and highlighters rolling to the floor, and there were sheets of paper halfway into the well which needed saving from any further trampling, too. That his phone was ringing with the ominous chime he’d assigned to Jessica’s number did not surprise him in the least.

They were both going to be some serious shit when they got back to the office.

“Did Jessica call you, too? I can’t wait to brag about this; I’ve been waiting for a story I could tell that would beat out Harvey’s win over McClatchey for months,” Louis jabbered when he’d left the courtroom. They were headed for the taxi bank – Louis Litt couldn’t find anyone who wanted to be his personal driver.

Go figure.

“Louis, are you seriously not concerned at all about what you just did?! You nearly killed a guy just now. Hell, you still might have,” Mike reprimanded as the junior partner dialed his assistant’s phone.

“Don’t be so naïve, Mike. These guys always try to worm their way out of answering the tough questions. Oooh, I have a heart condition. Oh no, I think I’m having a stroke. Please, counselor, go easy on me,” Louis feigned. “They didn’t have a heart condition when they were screwing over their own employees. And they didn’t give a damn about the cashiers’ need for a break to take their blood pressure medication.”

“And that makes what you did right? You could be going to prison for conspiracy to commit manslaughter.”

“Holy RaMBaM, Mike – you went to Harvard. First of all, there’s no such thing as conspiracy to commit manslaughter: if you conspire to kill someone then you had intent, which meant that the crime would have been murder rather than manslaughter. What just transpired wasn’t murder, though. At worst it was reckless endangerment – on his part, I might add – since the man took the stand knowing how much of a wolf I am.”

“New York Code of Law: Article 67: Section 5: Sub-section 14: If a man attempted to kill a person without intent to do so, i.e. owing to a passionate outburst-”

“Did you think I had forgotten that? That law was created in the 1970s to go after mob bosses by politicians who had no legal reasoning ability. Case in point: they tried to make a single instance of improper tax payment to the state a Class B felony. Class B, Mike; that’s up there with arson and drug-assisted rape,” Louis replied, hailing a second cab after an elderly woman snatched the first one that stopped.

“All I’m saying is that you just put a guy in the hospital during the second review of rulings on motions for our case. Our chances of getting Dirastacco’s to settle in favor of our clients has pretty much flown out the window.”

“Settle? Settle?! Jessica gave me this case because she knew I would knock it out of the park. I’m not going to settle for a few gold pieces – I’m going to take the whole upper management to the wood chipper. Oh, and I don’t appreciate your constant disapproval, Mike – it’s bordering on treasonous.”

Mike made sure to internalized his sigh. He’d been working under Louis for only two days and already he was wondering if he could beg Jessica to reassign Kyle to the case and let him assist her with whatever she had abandoned the case to do.

“Second-chair pays cab fare, FYI,” Louis asserted as one rolled up in front of them.

\-----

“Marcus? You don’t usually call during the middle of the day. Is something wrong?” Harvey asked nervously as he walked back from the hot dog vendor.

_“Well ‘Hello’ to you, too, bro. And yes, there is a problem. A huge one in fact.”_

“Is there anything I can do about it? You know I don’t have much pull with the government of Benin.”

_“Oh, the problem isn’t with me. It’s with you – you started dating someone and you didn’t tell me? Your loving, non-emotionally-stunted, advice-offering brother?”_

Harvey nearly spat out the pink mystery meat in his mouth, and in struggling to keep it in he triggered a fit of coughing. The laughter on the other end betrayed his brother’s base humor. Trust Marcus – a doctor, no less – to find the whole thing hilarious.

“Donna?”

_“Yup. To think I might never have found out if you hadn’t bugged her for advice - that any eighteen-year-old should know, essentially - so many times she lost her patience.”_

“I would have told you.”

_“Two months after you broke up with her like last time? Oh wait, this time you’re dating a guy, which you haven’t done since you left the DA’s office.”_

“I’m not dating him…well, not officially. He’s just staying at my place for the moment and-”

_“He’s already moved in with you?”_

“What? No; no, that isn’t what I meant. If you had let me finish, I would have told you that he’s staying at my place because his childhood friend assaulted him and it wasn’t like anyone else at the office-”

_“Stop right there, Harvey. You’re A: dating a guy, B: who’s living with you, C: who also happens to be a work colleague, and D: are so infatuated that you can’t pull off the suave bastard façade you use with all your one-nighters. He must really be something.”_

“Marcus, now isn’t really a good time to talk about this…” Harvey began, facing down a curious look from the Korean woman standing next to him at the intersection. “Maybe when I get home, we can-”

_“I didn’t call just for that. I’m getting an early vacation on account of our program exceeding expectations of how many villagers we could vaccinate, and I thought I might stop by and see you.”_

“Well, Mike is in the guest room,” Harvey thought aloud, trying to figure out an arrangement that would avoid putting either of the men in a hotel room.

_“So his name is Mike, huh?”_

“Damnit.”

_“Look, if you weren’t so love drunk you might realize that I’m trying to push you to do what you clearly have wanted to do for days and days now. Namely, get this Mike dude out of your guest room and between your sheets.”_

“So Donna told you everything-”

_“Yup.”_

“-and you were just trying to tease me by stringing out the details a second time?”

_“Uh huh.”_

“Remind me again why I put up with you?”

_“I’m your loving little brother who adores you when I’m not being an obnoxious shit?”_

“Ugh, fine. When do you get into New York?”

_“Sunday.”_

“How long have you known about this vacation? Are you telling me about this last minute just like every other time – even when I yelled at you that I can’t turn my place around in a single weekend because I have other things to do?”

“ _Sorry, the connection isn’t so good here_ ,” Marcus lied, faking interference (probably by blowing into the receiver, the lame-o). “ _I gotta go, bro. See you Sunday_.”

\-----

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Mike is still learning about how trial works. I’m sure he’s gaining experience from his mistakes…”

“I wasn’t talking about Mike. I’m talking about the fact that you put a man in the hospital, Louis. I’ve got enough shit on my plate already without having to micromanage you out of causing potentially fatal incidents,” Jessica explained, sitting back on her desk as she stared down at the junior partner.

“So you heard? I think that will be my new nickname: Coronary Litt. Or maybe Colonel Coronary? In any case, this is nothing but good publicity for Pearson Hardman, and with Hardman taking an active role here after his semi-retirement we’re set for a golden age.”

“I’m going to pretend I heard some remorse in that self-congratulatory dreck you just tried to feed me. Do you have any idea why I gave you the honor of handling one of my cases?”

“Because you needed someone to slam dunk it.”

“No. I gave it to you because it was easy. I set everything up for you, and all you had to do was walk the ball down to the basket and drop it into it. You didn’t even have to dribble it or even shoot the damn thing because I’d already lowered the basket to the ground. Honestly, Louis, I was hoping you could finish this up quickly and let the firm focus on something else. But now…”

“Oh. Well I’m sure I can get them to settle any moment. Just give me a day to speak with Robert.”

“Get on it, then,” Jessica sighed, motioning for the door. “No, I need to speak with my associate for a moment. He’ll get back to whatever task you have him working on when I’m finished.”

“That’s it? You’re letting him off with a slap to the wrist after he sent a guy to the ER? Jessica, it’s not my place, but I think you’ve temporarily lost your touch,” Mike offered once his substitute boss had left the managing partner’s office.

“You were at least partially right, Mike: it’s not your place. But then I guess even broken clocks are right twice a day,” she noted with a hint of irritation. “There are things going on that you're not attuned to, Mike, and my options are limited. The man whose life you saved is going to make a full recovery, though he should have started a daily regimen of medications for his heart condition years ago. More to the point, why didn’t you step in when you saw Louis going on a tear?”

“Huh?”

“Why do you think I left you on when I recused myself? Someone has to be the voice of reason representing our clients. They deserve better than some Louis/Kyle fiasco.”

“I think it’s already too late. I mean, what company is going to settle with us after we knocked one of their vice presidents out. And we may not have enough to win a clean victory in court that would avoid years of appeals.”

“Mike, do you have any idea how many vice presidents there are at most of these big companies? At Dirastacco’s alone there are more than thirty. They don’t give a damn about titles or employee well-being there so long as it doesn’t affect quarterly earnings reports. Hell, they’re probably glad we gave them a chance to shove someone off to an early retirement.”

“Is anyone here a human being?” Mike asked, looking around through the glass walls.

“Oh, ha-ha, Mike. Look, I’m grateful for what you did and how much money you probably saved the firm in a wrongful death lawsuit. But I need you to keep Louis under control for the duration of this case.”

“How the hell do I do that?”

“Everyone has their own strong suits and weak spots. Part of being a good lawyer is knowing when to play up the former and when to hammer the latter. Being able to choose between the two options properly, even in a situation where there’s a power imbalance – that’s what determines who has partner potential,” she instructed, returning to her seat. “Don’t get your hopes up, though; you’re still a first-year. Now tell me your greatest concern about this case.”

“Well obviously, losing. I think Louis went off on the witness for our preliminary hearing because Dana Scott irked him with some dumb insult about his masculinity. If she keeps that up it’s not going to end well for the other witnesses.”

“Then I guess you need to nullify Ms. Scott’s interference. Or inoculate Louis to her powers of aggression.”

“In a way that might actually penetrate his thick, pompous skull, you mean?”

They shared a laugh for a bit before Jessica stared daggers into Mike’s soul. It was terrifying how easily she could manage that.

“He’s still your boss and your colleague. But yes, the manner in which you impart that advice is probably more important than the content. Do you have any thoughts about how you might manage the feat?”

“Some, but I don’t suppose you’ll be giving me any clues, will you?”

“Nope. I’d better not keep you waiting here any longer; Louis really despises a lack of promptness in associates, after all.”

“I think this absolves me of having to work on any divorce cases for at least a few months,” Mike announced, hopeful that maybe a direct request might work.

“I don’t. If you’ve nothing else to say to me, get back to the bullpen and your work,” Jessica hummed, re-opening her laptop and signaling Wendy to make sure he obeyed the order.

\-----

“Donna, what a pleasant surprise it is running into you in the copy room today.”

“Rachel, don’t play that game with me. I know you stopped in here three times today to see if you could catch me in an unguarded moment,” the red-headed assistant fired back, more amused than annoyed.

“Sorry, but I need to catch up with the office gossip now that I’m back to helping associates with normal requests instead of partners with ridiculous demands.”

“Apology accepted. I’ve got another fifty copies printing out, so I can tell you about the latest goings-on of three people. Choose wisely.”

“Number one is obvious: Mike. Do you know where he’s living right now? I came up with ten good reasons why he couldn’t stay at my place in case he asked, mostly because I don’t like sharing a bathroom with a guy.”

“I don’t know where he’s living.”

“C’mon, you must know. He’s not still in a hotel, is he?”

“He does have friends from outside of the office. I’m sure one of them is putting him up, or maybe he found an apartment that isn’t a million miles away from work. I think he’s dating someone, though. He got back from the whole getting beaten thing rather quickly.”

“That’s true. And you don’t have any idea who he might be seeing?”

“He’s a tough nut to crack. I think I might have gone soft from years spent with the other associates who came running to me with their problems. But then I am an sea of tranquility in an ocean of chaos.”

“You’ve been spending too much time around Harvey Specter,” Rachel snorted, earning a raised eyebrow from the assistant. “Speaking of which…”

“Rachel, no. Harvey’s business is something I will never divulge. Ever. And just for that, I’m deducting that from your three.”

“Hey, it was worth a shot. Okay, how about Harold? He’s been awfully squeamish since Tuesday night – did a cougar partner from another firm make a move on him?”

“Oh, that,” Donna recalled, slamming her hand down on the lever of a three-hole punch, “no…he’s been off because…”

“Because why?”

“Well, he’s been receiving a lot of positive feedback from a certain higher-up, which, given how praise hungry most associates are, was sure to cause some concern. But then there’s the other thing…”

“Do I have to wrench it out of you?”

“No, I just – this stays between us. Do you know Benjamin in IT?”

“The kind of adorkable nerdy guy with black hair who’s always going off on people for not using the technology appropriately? That Benjamin?”

“Bingo. Well, apparently he invited Harold to a certain kind of party and Curly unwittingly agreed without knowing the parameters of the get-together.”

“In plain speak, please.”

“It was a gay leather orgy.”

“Holy crap.”

“Yeah.”

“And Harold?”

“Booked it home and then called me because he thought I’d know what to do. See what I mean about the associates spilling all their personal drama into my lap?”

“What did you tell him?” Rachel asked, taking a seat. The crinkle around her eyes broadcast the difficulty she had in processing the information.

“What was I supposed to say? I don’t know anything about gay orgy etiquette, and I’ve only had a couple boyfriends that were into BDSM or leather kinks. I did encourage him to explain the misunderstanding to Benjamin before the week was out, though. I figure if they can get past it then they’ll be friends for life.”

“Who would think Harold was gay, though? I mean, it’s fairly obvious that Mike is bent, but our little ferret?”

“I think Benjamin really had a crush on him, too. Poor guy – it must get lonely down on that floor when all of the other guys are misogynist straight man-babies or else don’t have a firm grasp of the English language,” Donna considered, stacking up the rest of her print-outs. “We should make an effort to invite him to mingle with people from our floor at the next company party. Or maybe bring him along for lunch?”

“Maybe there’d be some sparks between him and Mike.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“I do think so: both of them are gamers and dorky as hell, after all. And can appreciate the bullshit that goes on here. We should set them up.”

“Oh, Rachel, just quit while you’re ahead,” Donna shut down her friend, leaving her looking perplexed by the Xerox. She wasn’t completely sure that the paralegal wouldn’t try it, though, and maybe it would push Harvey to be a little more assertive with his feelings.

“Donna, you had no right to call Marcus,” Harvey argued when she reached her desk. Without saying anything in response, she reached for the notepad she had prepared earlier in the day.

_Yes, I did. You were being a wimp._

“Oh, you’re doing the prediction game again?”

She flipped the page and held the pad up to him again.

_Yes._

“I asked you for help and I thought we understood that those matters stayed between us.”

_For the love of- If you’d just ask, he’d say yes. You were being stubborn, so I called in the cavalry._

“How do I know when he’s ready and he’s not just acting like he’s gotten over what happened?”

_You’ll know._

“Hmmm. How about this: what am I going to have for dinner tonight?”

_Chicken Kiev._

“There’s no way you could have-”

_You had me copy your grocery list._

“But-”

_Even I can’t explain how Donna works._

“Did you know Marcus would be visiting before you called him?”

_Sometimes I get lucky. You have a teleconference with a client in five minutes._

“There are times I really question whether having you around is a good idea. This clairvoyance thing is goddamn creepy.”

_Love you, too, Harvey._

\-----

Harvey got home on time that night, after having spent the remaining hours at work and the car ride with Ray wondering how on earth his assistant knew as much as she did. He thought about purchasing some kind of Magneto helmet to keep her telepathic reach from pervading his mind any further. He’d concluded that it was pointless, though, since she’d just find a way around it.

Sure enough, he ended up having Chicken Kiev for dinner, although he made sure to finish it quickly and tried his best not to enjoy it one bit. The fact that Mike hadn’t come home…er, to his condo by the time he was done eating helped. Louis had been working him late for the past two nights and it looked as though this evening would be no different.

The bastard.

So Harvey plopped down on the couch when he was finished eating and resumed the hunt for anything that might link the firm to Hardman’s alleged malfeasance. It was tedious and dense discovery and diving into it reminded Harvey of his time as an associate when Jessica was always on his back about how he couldn’t read fast enough or find the right loophole.

The senior partner was midway through the second box of the night when he heard the key in the lock. Setting aside the papers, he gave himself a quick once-over for any lint before rising to greet the blond.

“Evening, Mike.”

“Harvey,” the younger man called appreciatively, dropping his bag and walking into the brunet. The rookie probably had no idea how much Harvey enjoyed hugging him. “I feel like Sancho Panza.”

“C’mon, Mike. That’s doing a disservice to you and Don Quixote,” Harvey consoled, rubbing the blond’s back. “The man might have been crazy, but at least he wasn’t Louis.”

“When can this case be over and done? I can’t wait to start working with Jessica again,” the younger man griped, retreating to remove his shoes and place them on the rack.

“Don’t you think that was the point of tossing you to Louis? Maybe she was worried that you would migrate into the mentorship of another partner.”

“With my secret? Yeah, I don’t think Jessica is letting me anywhere near anyone else who I could tell. She probably only trusted me with Louis because she knows that he’s the one person in whom I would never confide.”

“So I’m just in the ‘everyone else’ category, now, am I?” Harvey asked with a slight frown.

“Of course not,” Mike assured, returning for a kiss. “And before you say anything, my lips are back to normal. No pain whatsoever, so you don’t have to feel guilty or stop me.”

“That’s good to hear,” Harvey announced in between pecks. “Have you eaten?”

“Yup. Rachel demanded I order something and join her in the library. There was this other guy there…Benjamin,” Mike recalled slowly, moving to one of the bar stools. “I think he’s down with the computers. He seems pretty nice.”

Harvey said nothing in response to that last comment, but as he moved to the dishwasher and began unloading it, he made sure to accidentally on purpose drop three pieces of silverware. The other man didn’t seem to notice.

“But that doesn’t really matter. What have you been doing here? More discovery for the case with Tanner?”

“Mike, I need to ask a favor of you.”

“You want me to read through more files? It’s no problem, Harvey.”

“I didn’t ask you to help the other times, rookie,” the brunet asserted, stacking a plate on top of the pile. “My brother is going to visit next week, and I wanted to ask-”

“Marcus is going to be in town? Oh, you want me to leave the premises while he’s here, huh?” Mike asked with a wink. The gesture made Harvey’s arousal stir a little too much for comfort.

“Not exactly. I generally let him stay in the guest room when he’s around, so there are a couple of options. Neither one would require you having to return to a hotel room or your apartment. The first option is you take the couch, and the second…”

“Is what? I sleep on the balcony? In your closet?”

“Do you really think I’m that cruel?” Harvey asked, more than a little offended. “If it’s alright with you, I’d be happy to have you just sleep in my bed. There’s more than enough room for the both of us…”

“Wait, I thought you didn’t like sleeping with me. The whole flying solo thing and the way you complain about how hot and sweaty you are when you wake up?”

“Okay, I admit it: I can be grumpy before my first cup of coffee.”

“And you’re not concerned about your brother thinking that we’re…”

“What?- sleeping together? I’m not some Victorian prude, and Marcus knows it. More importantly, Donna told him a little about us, and he’d just be more suspicious if we tried to hide it.”

“Exactly how much did Donna tell him?”

“Are you okay with sleeping in my bed or not?”

“I see you dodging that question, Harvey. But yeah, I’m fine with being bunkmates while Marcus is around.”

“Seriously, Mike? ‘Bunkmates’?…Never mind. Would you be alright with moving into my room a little early?”

“How early?”

“Tonight?”

“Wait, wait, wait – you wanted me in your bed this whole time? Why didn’t you say anything, Harvey? Here I thought you didn’t like having me in your condo.”

“I figured you needed your space. The rule about us not shagging stays in effect, though, no matter your decision. I can’t have sex with you until I know you’re all better,” Harvey warned, sliding the last glass into its assigned spot and turning to face the younger man.

“You complain about the word ‘bunkmates’ and then you call our fucking ‘shagging’?” Mike grinned. “Yes, Harvey, I will totally let you get handsy and cuddle-crazy with me from now on. Happy?”

“Very,” the older man admitted, initiating a deep kiss. “Do you want any help moving your belongings out of the guest room?”

“You’re ecstatic over this, aren’t you? But anyway, there’s not that much to move. I should be able to manage it on my own.”

“I’ll help anyway,” Harvey stated, pushing Mike back towards his now former sleeping quarters. “I can at least move your suits over into my closet and…what the hell is that doing here, rookie?”

“What are you talking about, Harvey?”

“That,” he repeated, pointing at a certain outfit hanging in the guest closet. “That does not belong in this condo.”

“Oh, the suit I wore when I met Jessica? I mean, it’s a suit, right? I’m sure it will come in handy again someday…Does it really bother you that much?”

“Yes,” he groaned, grabbing the hanger and moving for the foyer. “Follow me, rookie.”

“Tell me what you’re going to do with it first,” the blond called out, chasing after him. “You can’t just destroy something that belongs to me!”

“Oh, I’m not. We’re going to conduct a little science experiment, Mike,” the older man explained as he propped the front door open with a doorstop and continued on into the hallway. “I’m going to hang this sartorial abomination from one of the lamps out here. If someone’s absconded with it in the next week, I will pay to have Rene make you a new suit to replace it.”

“And if it’s still there?”

“Then you will chuck it in the garbage bin where it belongs yourself.”

“That’s not fair. There’s no outcome where I get to keep it, Harvey.”

“Precisely, Mike. Say your goodbyes and then come back inside and help me move your stuff into my room. We’ll have a discussion concerning how many of your skinny ties I’ll accept in my closet later.”

\-----

“Here you go, Donna,” Harold signaled as he set a cup of coffee down on her desk. “It took a little bit of coaxing to get the barista to agree to add caramel now that it’s summertime.”

“Excellent work, kiddo. Have you spoken with Benjamin yet?” the redhead asked, sipping on the drink.

“Yeah. We both had a good laugh over what happened. I guess I’m partially at fault. He kept asking me if I knew this place or that place when he invited me…there, and I didn’t want to seem like some stupid non-native New Yorker.”

“I don’t think people believe you to be stupid, Harold. Maybe a little clueless and jumpy, but you’re definitely not an idiot. I mean, you got my order right, and you haven’t bumbled a case in a while now.”

“Don’t jinx me.”

“Duly noted.”

“We’re going to see a movie on Saturday night, so I think I ended up making a friend out of it.”

“Does Benjamin know you’re seeing that movie together just as friends?”

“Hmm, I should probably repeat that part to him again, just in case, huh?”

“I strongly advise you to do so. Oh, could you take this folder over to Mike? Tell him that he should prepare the trap as soon as he receives this and then get out of there. And Harold, whatever you do, do not try to peek at the contents.”

“This isn’t his instructions for playing Lady Justice at the holiday party, is it?”

“…What? Just take care of it, okay?” Donna ordered, a look of confusion on her face. “Thanks for the coffee. Harvey won’t need to see you until he’s finished with his 10:00, so you can take care of anything Louis has given you for now.”

Harold nodded and returned to the associates’ pool. Kyle had been summoned to Louis’ office earlier, and without their brain Devon and Jeffrey were actually focusing on their work for once. The curly-haired associate dutifully handed his blond counterpart the folder and imparted the instructions.

“Thank you,” Mike added, carefully opening the folder and grimacing as he did. “I need to step out to grab something from the library. If anyone asks, that’s where I was, okay?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Awesome. You’re a real pal, Harold,” Mike summed up, rising from his seat and heading in a direction that was most definitely not toward the library.

Harold spent the next five minutes proofreading a brief he’d drawn up for Louis, enjoying the peace and quiet in the otherwise noisy hall. Mike returned to his seat and popped his earphones in; the smile on his face was probably imperceptible to anyone else, but the curly-haired associated noticed the way the corners of his mouth lifted upwards. Harold had just saved his edits and sent the document off to the junior partner’s email when he heard a cacophony from the copy room.

“DEMONIC…POSSESSION! That’s the only answer!” Louis shouted, sprinting through the bullpen and leaving a trail of papers behind him. “Does anyone know the number of an exorcist? We have a possessed copying machine IN THE OFFICE!”

Harvey chose that moment to stroll into the pool, leaning over the partition of Harold’s cubicle to speak to him.

“Morning, rookie. Is there anything you need to tell me?”

“I’D SETTLE FOR A FIRE AXE RIGHT ABOUT NOW!”

“You mean besides that?”

“I guess it goes without saying. Stop by my office at 10:30 so we can touch base,” the brunet notified. “It’s a great morning, isn’t it, Mike?”

“It sure is, Mr. Specter,” Mike agreed, turning his head upward to flash a smile at the both of them.

“EVEN A LEAD PIPE WOULD WORK!”

\-----

_“Harvey?”_

“Vanessa?”

_“Meet me at the back of your building in two minutes.”_

“Donna, can you-”

“Way ahead of you, boss. I’ll keep your next client entertained for a bit, but do try to hurry the conversation along, alright?”

“Good. His son plays the saxophone…I think.”

“Bassoon, actually, but I’m pleasantly surprised you remembered he had a kid. Now go run along and play your spy games.”

Harvey rolled his eyes and strolled to the elevators, riding them down to the lobby and then heading through the service door in the rear. Luckily, no one was trying to grab a smoke break and the terrace adjacent to the alley was empty.

“What’s the password?” his CI asked, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.

“Swordfish?”

“Good enough. I’ve got a lot of good info for you.”

“You found something I can use against Tanner?”

“Yes. I’ve made a list of cases where he tried to strong-arm the competition with something from the distant past. It looks like it’s his standard operating procedure,” she said, digging a flash drive out of her pocket.

“Do you have any idea why he decided to go after us?”

“Your suspicion is beginning to seem more and more like what’s actually happening; you may have a fifth column operating within the firm. He wouldn’t have found out about your injury unless someone tipped his nose to it, anyway.”

“Is it more than just the one person we’re both thinking about right now?”

“It’s hard to tell. I don’t know who opened communications with Tanner, but he must have been amenable to the idea. It seems he has a bit of a chip on his shoulder about people constantly singing your praises.”

“One of the few drawbacks to being the best closer this city has ever known,” Harvey joked. His CI waved her had as if she had just smelled something foul.

“He also seems to believe that Boston has better lawyers than New York, what with Harvard being located closer to there.”

“So he’s a moron in addition to being a pest. Anything else?”

“I wasn’t able to nail it down concretely, but there are a lot of rumors about his employment of underhanded methods. Witness tampering, encouragement of perjury, creation of evidence – he pretty much runs the gamut.”

“Good; that’s something I can definitely use. And the guy I asked about a couple days ago?”

“That was a considerably easier matter. He’s just some low-level drug dealer, Harvey – why did you even hire me to look into him? Is it because he’s connected to the guy you’re seeing?”

“You let me worry about that. Just tell me what he’s been doing lately.”

“Up until a while ago he was just a freelancer selling some Adderall derivative and pot, but the drug cartels in the city have been cracking down on the entrepreneurs lately. It looks like they made him start using Heroin as a way to recoup the money that was flowing into his bank account.”

“Do you know how long he’s been using?”

“He probably only started in the past month. You’re not thinking of trying to get him cleaned up, are you? Dope is one of the more difficult substance addictions to break – you’d need to put him in a professional facility for a while.”

“Will he come after Mike again?”

“He has decent reserves of cash, but a drug habit will burn through that pretty quickly. You have to remember that he needs to have enough dough to buy a shipment of pot before he can reap the profits of re-selling it, too. There’s a list of his business partners and other relevant information on that same flash drive I just handed to you.”

“Right. Thanks for the quick turnaround.”

“Oh, I assure you that you are the one deserving of thanks. You’re my best customer, at least for this month. And you always pay up in advance, too.”

“That’s probably because Donna sees you as an equal in the intelligence-gathering department. She handles most of my bills…you already knew that, though.”

“Give her my gratitude anyway. I, for one, am off to the airport to enjoy a lovely holiday on Maui, courtesy of you,” Vanessa smiled, starting for the alley. “And one last bit of advice: when you get to the point where you can start taking out the garbage, be sure to do it all at once. You’ve got the element of surprise thanks to me – don’t waste it.”

“Call me when you get back in town. I’ll probably have more work for you then,” Harvey called out before turning back to the building.

Good employee that he was, Steve had re-directed all the smokers to the front of the building. Harvey slipped him enough money for him to take his girlfriend to a decent restaurant for dinner when he got off his shift.

\-----

“TGIF!” Mike shouted as he and Harvey made their way into the latter’s home. “I can’t believe Louis actually let me out only two hours late; he must have really been terrified of that picture. Thank you, by the way. Can we order takeout tonight?”

“Sure, rookie. Do you have any idea when you’re going to be back in court?” the brunet inquired, fishing around for the stack of menus he kept hidden in the pantry.

“Judge Sneiderman scheduled the start date for Wednesday. I think he’s just as sick of going over preliminary motions as the rest of us are,” Mike guessed, pulling off his tie. “Do we need to talk about work? I’m going to have to go in tomorrow, and I don’t want to think about that right now.”

“Hmmm. Well there’s something else I think we should discuss before we move on to dinner and the ball game.”

“Which is?”

“Mike, I think you should sit down for this.”

“What is it, Harvey?”

“It concerns Trevor.”

“Did you run into him? He didn’t try to hurt you, did he?” Mike asked nervously, migrating to the couch as he unbuttoned his sleeves.

“No. You know I have a CI for cases, right? Well, I hired her to look into him.”

“Why would you do that, Harvey? I told you that he’s not your problem.”

Harvey couldn’t mistake the hint of indignation growing in the blond’s voice as he spoke. He really hoped Donna had been right when she'd advised him to tell Mike about what he'd learned from Vanessa.

“Hear me out first, okay? I wanted to make sure that he wasn’t about to find out that you’re here. And I also wanted to see if there was any reason why your friend would turn on you.”

“Do I want to hear what you’re going to say?”

“I don’t know; we’re only going to find out if I tell you, right?” Harvey asked, sitting down next to the younger man. “He’s using heroin, Mike. It’s not clear, but it looks like some of the people he works for started him on the habit recently. I know it doesn’t change what he did to you-”

“But what?”

“I figured you had a right to know, Mike. Look, I don’t want you to have to deal with this on your own.”

“Why? Because I’m not capable of taking care of myself?”

Harvey pulled the blond in for a kiss, and when Mike tried to wrest himself free of it the brunet locked him with a tight embrace. Eventually, the younger man relaxed into the exchange and Harvey felt like he could loosen his grip.

“We’re a team, Mike. I cover your back and you cover mine, and when I see you hurt you better believe I’m going to get involved. You’re capable of so much, but no one should be expected to face this stuff alone.”

“Harvey, I-”

“If it were up to me, I’d bar you from trying to help Trevor. But I realize that you and I are both stubborn assholes, and I’d rather you let me assist you than allow you to get dragged deeper into this mess and end up God-knows-where.”

“You didn’t have the CI look into me, too, did you?”

“Are you kidding me? You’re such an open book, rookie, it would be a complete waste of money,” Harvey joked, dodging a light slap. “I’m learning to trust you to tell me about the important stuff, and I hope you can trust me to not freak out again…too much.”

“You are an asshole,” Mike laughed, straddling the brunet. “I’m glad you told me, though. I don’t have a clue what I want to do about Trevor now, but I might take you up on the offer for assistance.”

“So we don’t have to have an argument? Should I let you pick out where we’re ordering dinner, just in case you’re still subconsciously upset?” Harvey asked as the younger man began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Let’s table dinner for now. I think it’s time we finally started screwing again.”

“Mike, you know that I-”

“Harvey, aside from a little discoloration there are no remaining physical ailments of what happened. I had a week from hell in the past three days alone putting up with Louis, I’m horny as hell, and I’m feeling appreciative for your honesty. I’m going to get off tonight; you can either be a part of it or not, but it’s going to happen.”

“When you put it that way,” Harvey began, picking up Mike. He made sure to shift the weight of the blond to his good arm as he walked them both back toward his bed. Mike spent the journey working buttons loose with his hands and teasing the older man’s ear with his tongue.

“…’m gonna suck you off until my jaw locks…”

“Jesus, Mike. It’s a wonder you got any work done today,” Harvey assessed, shivering at the sensations running from his pinna down to his toes. He carefully dropped the blond onto the mattress, where he flew to the fly of the brunet’s trousers. “Can we do something that lets our mouths stay together instead?”

“Sure,” Mike smiled, shifting back to allow the older man to join him on the bed. “You wanna make out and give each other hand shandys? That’s awfully romantic.”

“I will never cease to wonder at the things you say, Mike. ‘Hand shandy’? That’s just awful,” Harvey fired back, freeing himself of his dress shirt and pulling off the t-shirt underneath.

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Mike smirked, disrobing himself of his pants and underwear. “You should know I've got skilled fingers, and I'm saying that to a guy who can play the piano.”

“Hmph,” the brunet huffed, hooking his thumbs under the elastic of his boxer briefs and sliding them and his trousers off to the floor. “Show me your moves.”

“Oh, you're Captain Falcon now? Well okay, cap'in,” Mike grinned, rolling on top of the older man and seizing a deep kiss. The blond wrapped his hand around their members and began pumping them in unison as their lips pressed together. “Unghhh…really needed this…my recovery would have been…so much faster.”

“Too much friction. Gonna finish too early,” Harvey warned, reaching for the nightstand and retrieving a bottle of lube. He poured some of its contents out onto Mike’s proffered hand and let him rub it out onto them.

“We’ve got…plenty of time for…endurance later,” Mike muttered. “We’re bedmates now, remember?”

“Say that again,” Harvey demanded, cutting him off with a kiss as he began to open his mouth.

“I’m all up…in your bed, Harvey. Every night…while I’m here,” the blond grinned before pushing his tongue into the older man’s mouth; he quickened the pace of his jacking as he did.

“Mike…such a…good boy,” Harvey moaned, running his hands down to Mike’s butt and digging his fingers into the muscly behind. “Not gonna last, though.”

“Me…either.”

The younger man used his other hand to rub their balls as the kissing became ever more desperate and needy. Harvey’s groping gave way to loud, sharp spanks as he felt himself approach the edge.

“So good…for me.”

“We both…earned it.”

“’m glad…you’re here.”

“Me, too,” Mike confirmed, allowing Harvey to wrap a hand behind his head and pull him closer as orgasm neared.

“Fuck!” he shouted as hot streams coated both their chests. “So…much…come.”

“Wait…for me,” Mike moaned; the older man felt the blond’s limbs tense and begin to shake as he too started releasing himself. They rode out their orgasms together, their trembling bodies resonating together as they did.

Harvey wasn’t sure what happened after that, though he had a feeling that they both blacked out for a little bit. When he could stand to open his eyes again, he saw those blue eyes staring back at him, a playful expression hiding beyond.

“I think this is the biggest mess we’ve ever made, Harvey,” Mike laughed, leaning down to lick at some of it that was covering the older man’s nipple. “Now do you see why keeping us from fucking is a bad idea?”

“On the contrary, rookie. Imagine what it would have been like if I had made us wear cock rings at work from Monday until today. You’d probably sleep for twelve hours straight afterwards.”

“That’s just evil, Harvey.”

“Just you wait, Mike, though opting for a quickie was a good idea, I think. Can we go shower this slop off of us now?” Harvey requested, glancing down at the pools of ejaculate in between his abs. “I’m willing to order burgers.”

“Okay. But you have to carry me to the tub – my leg muscles are still spasming.”

“Sure thing, babe.”

Silence fell over the two men as they both considered what Harvey had just said.

“Did you just call me ‘babe’? Are we doing pet names now?”

“Do you have a problem with it?”

“Well, it’s not like there are many other options. Hunny and sweetey are too heteronormative…can I call you babe, too?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mike – I called it first.”

“So what should I call you then?”

“Gorgeous? Amazing? Indomitable?” Harvey asked, wagging his eyebrows.

“Psh, and here I thought wanking you off would bring your ego back to size. How about ‘stud’?”

“I can work with stud.”

“Alright then, stud. Give me a lift to the bathroom and I’ll watch the game with you naked and let you grope me as much as you want.”

“You’ve got a deal, babe. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yup. I’ll be better than okay once I’ve got a burger in my stomach,” Mike laughed, allowing Harvey to wrap his arms around the younger man as he rose to his feet.

\-----

Harvey awoke from a fitful sleep early in the morning. He ran his hands through the blond’s hair absently as worked over the thoughts flooding his head. Eventually it became too much, and he had to extricate himself from the tangle of limbs and leave the bedroom.

He needed Mike.

He’d realized that he needed the younger man at some point tonight. Of course, he’d known to some extent how important this relationship was almost from the beginning, but it was only now that he really grasped it. Now that he really let it sink in that Mike was a part of his life.

And it goddamn frightened him. The things he had done for the younger man? They didn’t even bother him, like his conscience didn’t worry about his actions at all so long as they were carried out in Mike’s interest. All he cared about was making sure that Mike stayed by his side.

Harvey knew he couldn’t risk fucking this up.

But he also knew that his track record with relationships was a God awful disaster. It was a Michael-Jordan’s-record-in-the-front-office kind of disaster. A what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you, you’ve-had-one- **real** -long-term-romantic-relationship-with-someone-in-your-thirty-eight-years-on-the-planet kind of disaster.

So he poured himself a whisper of scotch and silently had a panic attack at three in the morning, sitting naked and shaking in his own kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't give myself nearly enough time for final proofreading with this chapter, so please excuse the typos and unintentional repetition of words if there are more than usual.


	17. Family Reunion Circus

“Stop worrying so much.”

“How can I not worry in a situation like this, Harvey? When I get back to this condo, there will be two Specters,” Mike explained, holding up as many fingers as he stepped into his Converses. “Is New York City even big enough for the both of you?”

“Way to use your genius brain for basic arithmetic, Mike,” the brunet mocked as he opened the door, still holding Mike’s helmet. “I told you last night that you’ve got nothing to fear from Marcus. He’s going to be thrilled once he gets to know you.”

“I was a little distracted with the other stuff we were doing last night…and this morning,” the blond argued, standing and retrieving the safety gear from the older man. “Which is totally your fault, by the way. My butt’s going to be sore for the whole ride over to the care facility.”

“I wasn’t made aware of any complaints when I was on top of you on the bed, or when we had round two on the balcony, or even when you backed yourself up onto me in the shower,” Harvey smirked, landing a slap on Mike’s posterior. “And here I got up early on a Sunday just to see you off and make sure you didn’t forget anything.”

“You’re a regular saint, stud. You’re sure-”

“Yes.”

“Should I bring anything back with me? A bottle of wine or something?”

“Just yourself in one piece, babe.”

Harvey planted a kiss on the blond’s lips and watched as he strolled down the hallway and into one of the elevators. As he shut the door, the brunet considered his options for the morning. After the previous evening’s marathon fuck session, he could’ve really done with another three hours of sleep.

Residual jitters from the freakout he’d experienced in the kitchen yesterday morning kept him from getting any more rest, though. Instead, he opted to make a real breakfast and set about doing just that. The routine of it would keep his head occupied. Plus, Marcus would probably show up at his door any moment now, hungry and begging for everything edible.

The trouble was, Harvey didn’t exactly know how to navigate longer-term relationships. As he cracked eggs on the rim of the skillet, he thought of ways to treat his…bedmate. At the very least, he was determined to get the blond out to a Yankees game once the bullshit with Tanner and Mike and Louis’ case had concluded. And it would be his birthday soon, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t reverse the responsibility and take them both out for a classy dinner – any excuse to get the younger man back into that tux.

Harvey expanded on the list as he added the sausages and strips of bacon and started to feel a little better. He was mid-way through plating his confectionary creation when he heard the knocks on the door. Knowing his brother as well as he did, Harvey opted to finish his task; somehow the idiot had managed to never lose the key he’d given him years and years ago.

“Something smells amazing in here,” Marcus called out, hefting two suitcases into the condo a moment later. “Hey, bro!”

“Markers!” Harvey exclaimed, hurrying over to give his little brother a hug. He was a bit dismayed at how much his arms overlapped when he did, as well as how pale his brother’s otherwise golden locks appeared. “My God you’ve gotten scrawny. What have they been feeding you over there?”

“It’s good to see you, too,” the blond Specter laughed.

Harvey pointed at the man’s boots and he immediately got down and began untying the laces. It was best not to think about what exactly coated the bottom of them, but Harvey made a mental note to tell Uli to scrub the foyer floor with the extra strength cleaner when she next visited. He also made a note to make his brother buy some new socks – the ones he was wearing both had large holes. (Why were all the men in his life incapable of attending to basic tasks like that, anyway?)

“Well, I’ve had a lot of mashed yams. There was an enormous amount of mashed maize, too. Oh, and I can’t forget all of the mashed cassava, either,” Marcus listed as he rose to his feet and headed for the sink.

“So Beninois eat everything mashed, then?”

“Not exactly. When you’re down in Cotonou there’s all manner of French cuisine and a ton of great spices, but up north where we were the options are a little…limited. It didn’t help that the woman who MSF had putting us up had some kind of quasi-religious fear of anything crispy or crunchy,” the blond explained, washing his hands thoroughly.

“And speaking of religion: no pork, right?”

“Yeah. It’s not all Muslims, but the Christians refuse to serve any pig out of solidarity. It’s a nice sentiment, I guess, but after seven months I need my bacon fix.”

“My brother, the junky,” Harvey scoffed, moving the plates to the table and returning to the counter to pour coffee for the both of them. “Didn’t you grab anything to eat at Heathrow? And why do you never go through CDG?- the turnaround time is a lot shorter there.”

“Did Donna tell you that?”’

“I asked my question first. But yes, I had her look into it.”

“I accidentally offended a former Senegalese prime minister once, and you know how the French are – Françafrique and all that. Besides, Heathrow is basically the only time I ever need to go shopping all year, what with the gigantic mall they crammed into that airport.”

Harvey rolled his eyes at that comment while they dug into their food. Marcus was just as stingy as Harvey was extravagant; the only person who came anywhere close to the blond in terms of how long he held on to clothes and electronics was…the other blond. Seriously, Marcus had shown up last time in a jacket he’d purchased sophomore year of high school, and Harvey was sure Mike probably still had clothes from middle school.

“I’m happy to send you things, y'know.”

“Look at you being all fraternal,” Marcus laughed, taking a sip from his mug. “But let’s focus on the important topic: is Mike here? Did you give him the Harvey Specter special last night and knock him out for the day?”

“Gross. You’re my brother, and the only reason you know about that is because-”

“Because I caught you and Nadya doing the nasty ten years ago?”

“Because you only learned how to knock like a normal human being three years ago. And no, he’s not here; he spends Sunday mornings taking his grandmother to Mass.”

“Oooh, that’s gotta sting, huh? Losing out to an old lady?” Marcus jabbed with a raised eyebrow. “You got the eggs just right, though; they’re nice and runny.”

“She’s in the hospital getting treatment for chronic illness, Marcus. Jesus, you’re a doctor – at least pretend like you care about the injured and infirm. I don't know, though; maybe doctors are trained to be assholes in Benin or something.”

“I’m just joking, bro. But you have to admit that almost none of your past lady friends ever would have opted for that trek over sleeping in. From what Donna told me he sounds like a great guy, hence why I want to meet him and reassure him that you’re not always an impossible ass.”

“Who’s putting you up while you stay in town, anyway?” Harvey asked, slightly irritated but glad to know his brother was safe and getting some food in his stomach. “I could easily just let you foot the bill for your own hotel room.”

“Psh, you know you’re way too overprotective with your baby brother for that,” the blond man chided. “Besides, then you couldn’t enjoy the present I picked up for you at the shopping mall in the airport.”

“You mean you were able to get-”

“Yup: I bought you the DVD box set of the latest series of _Doctor Who_ with the extra interviews with all of the actors.”

“You can stay.”

“Nobody knows you like your brother, Harvey,” Marcus smirked. “Is there any more grub? I’ve got a lot of empty space to fill.”

“Here, you can have what’s on my plate while I cook up some more,” Harvey allowed, rising to return to the stovetop. “After all, it’s not like you’re going to be in town all that long.”

“About that-”

“What? You’re not leaving tomorrow or something, are you?”

“No. I’m here for a solid week, but…I was going to wait to tell you, but…I got a desk job with the UN. Now don’t get too excited,” the blond warned. (He really did know Harvey better than anyone; the brunet was ready to wave his spatula in the air and run screaming with joy around his home.) “It doesn’t start for another three months, and I’ll still be going out into the field periodically. I’m using this trip to scout out possible apartments in addition to seeing you.”

“But you’re going to be living in the city?”

“It looks like it, bro. I’m getting too old for schlepping it out in the Sahel. I mean, once you’re past thirty-five it starts getting downright embarrassing getting dysentery all the time. By the way, how is it being really old? You’re not incontinent already, are you?”

“You little shit,” Harvey scolded as he pulled his little brother into a headlock. “Do you want me to have Donna help you in your search? One of her paralegal friends is apparently pretty good with the whole rental game.”

“Yeah, but I should probably ask her in person, right? Besides, I want to stop by and say hey to Wendy – maybe see if she’s open to the idea of restarting things.”

“Have the florist remove all the thorns if you buy her roses,” the older brother warned. “But never mind any of that – we’re celebrating tonight. Blue Note?”

“Sure, as long as I get to meet Mike. Oh, and could you hurry up with the bacon?” the younger brother reminded with a snap of his fingers.

Harvey smacked the idiot on the head before hurrying back to the already sizzling pork. Marcus still had another few months with Mrs. Mashed, and he wasn’t about to let his kid brother back into her care without five pounds of buffer fat.

\-----

Mike took a deep breath as he waited for the elevator to return him to the top floor of the building. The six-pack of beer he’d picked up on the way back from the hospital (Grammy’s suggestion…for his “friend”) was dripping condensation onto the floor and there was probably as much sweat on his brow, both from the trip and his fretting.

To be fair, he was about to meet with someone he didn’t know at all. And it wasn’t like when Trevor had introduced his latest girlfriend to the blond and they’d both known that whatever she thought of the dorky sidekick, it wouldn’t matter in the end. No, because Mike wanted Marcus to like him – because he knew Harvey was desperate to hold onto what little family he had left.

Just like Mike.

So when the doors dinged open, Mike composed himself as best he could and opted to try to be himself…just not too much of himself. He retrieved the key for the front door with his free hand on the painfully long walk down the hallway and willed himself to get through whatever came next.

“I’m not saying David Tennant is the best Doctor ever for all time. I’m just saying that he captured the essence of the character well for that time period. Excuse me for having my own opinions, Harvey,” an unfamiliar voice argued from the living room.

“A, we grew up with Tom Baker; to go against him is downright treasonous. B, I’m the bisexual here and even his good looks don’t save him from being gimmicky and a bit desperate,” Harvey’s voice replied. “Was that the door just now?”

“Oh look, the lawyer is running away from an argument. Could it be you know you can’t beat your brother, and you’re giving up?”

“Never,” the brunet answered, now spotting the younger man. “Mike, you’re back. Come here and let me introduce you to Marcus – who is a total brat, by the way.”

“It’s good to finally meet you…holy fuck, you’re Harvey 2.0.”

The golden-haired clone of Mike’s roommate grinned and grabbed Mike’s outstretched hand, pulling him in for a shake/hug combination move. The associate looked over at Harvey with a bit of concern, but the older man just shook his head, so Mike turned back and froze again at all the similarities between the two men: the same crinkle around the eyes, the same smile that would look smug on anyone else, even the same bend in the ears.

“Mike, I know you don’t have all that much experience with introductions, but that’s not exactly what I’d hoped would be your first words with my brother.”

“It’s not my fault you two look exactly alike. I mean, Christ, how did they tell you apart when you were little?” Mike asked, still glancing back and forth between the two men to spot the differences.

“What, did you think I was adopted or something?” Marcus asked, cracking up with laughter. “You might want to put that beer in the fridge, by the way. Harvey doesn’t like his wood floors getting wet.”

“Oh, shit,” Mike replied, but the older brother had already grabbed the pack from his hand and was on his way to the kitchen. “Sorry, I’m not usually this helpless. It’s just that Harvey hasn’t told me very much about you, and with him as the frame of reference I was expecting some kind of…”

“Equally aristocratic, so-called gentleman?”

“Something like that,” Mike laughed, plopping down on the couch as the other blond pressed the remote to unpause the episode of _Doctor Who_ they were watching.

“Then I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you. Harvey soaked up the high-class genes from dad; all he left me with were some of the leftover do-gooding and of course the love of places rustic,” Marcus explained, resting one of his heavily calloused feet on the thigh of the other leg. “Fortunately, Donna told me a lot about you.”

“Oh-”

“Don’t worry. It was good…well, mostly. You shouldn’t have tried to hide your injuries from Harvey after you got beat up, though, as I’m sure you’ve realized. He always ends up figuring things like that out.”

“You mean like the time that idiot 'friend' of yours got you to try pot in the teacher’s lounge so he could frame Mrs. Rosemont and get out of his final exam, and when you told on him, he tried to kick your ass and I had to jump in and stop him?” Harvey asked, returning with an opened bottle of beer and a coaster and handing them to Mike.

“I’m warning you, bro. If you try to humiliate me with anything from my past I will return the favor with disproportionate recollection of your own dorky origins.”

“At least I don’t have a straight-guy crush on David Tennant of all people,” Harvey scoffed, wrapping an arm around Mike and pulling him closer to him.

“I’m going to ignore that for the moment. But that is a good question, though; who’s your favorite Doctor, Mike?”

“Christopher Eccleston, but before you say any-”

“I think I just lost a little respect for your boyfriend, Harvey,” Marcus warned, reaching for the bowl of peanuts on the coffee table. “Christopher Eccleston? He quit after less than one year: total chump.”

“Yeah, Mike. Even I’m not going to try to defend you with that.”

“Hey, he played the role from episode 157 to episode 166b – that’s a respectable…4.1493% of the canon.”

The two Specters exchanged glances with one another, the quiet only interrupted by the sound of Marcus chewing his food.

“Okay, so the genius claim seems true,” the younger brother conceded after a swig of beer. “And at least you know the show. I had a girlfriend in med school who thought it was a joke a la ‘Who’s on First?’.”

“Way to pick a loser, Mar…”

“Mar…what? Oh, you haven’t told him our nicknames for each other, have you?” the younger brother inquired with a devilish grin on his face. “I need to teach you a lot, it seems, Mike.”

“Don’t you dare-”

“Now I like to call Harvey ‘Har-Har’. You see, he was quite the comedian when he was little. That was before he got obsessed with baseball when dad took us to our first Yankees game.”

“We were both obsessed with baseball, you idiot. At least I didn’t pitch like a girl,” Harvey fired irritably. Mike ignored the petulant older brother and held his attention on the one confessing all the good details.

“Correction: Harvey was obsessed with baseball and made me play on his team when we went up against the neighborhood boys. But that was after he checked out every joke book from the library and practiced telling them to mom and me while we made dinner. ‘Oh, har-har, Harvey,’ we’d say to him to get him to shut up and lend a hand.”

“Dad laughed at my jokes.”

“That was pity laughter. Harvey, do you remember that fishing trip the three of us took when I was eight? You know that lunker you caught that made you so proud you told everyone you saw about it for weeks afterward?”

“What about it?”

“Dad paid the owner of the lake to drop it in before we arrived so that one of us would actually catch something. He made it up to me for not being the one to reel it in by telling me on the ride home while you were asleep.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“It never occurred to you to wonder why you caught a bass in a lake that was supposedly only populated by salmon?”

“…There’s no such thing as a fish census, Marcus. A bass could’ve ended up in there for any number of reasons.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Har-Har,” Marcus smirked. “Now Harvey’s nickname for me is also embarrassing, but since he was the one who first used it it’s a strike against him, too. You see, I was big into drawing when I was little, being the sickly one that I was. Anyway, Harvey made mom buy me a stack of coloring books and a box of markers when I was out with chicken pox. That’s my nickname, by the way: Markers.”

Mike turned to peek at Harvey’s face. He’d never seen the man blush before (to be honest, he didn’t think the man was capable of letting signs of weakness slip past his stern face outside of the odd post-coital moment), but sure enough there was a red splotch spreading outward from his nose to the edges of his cheeks. The blond took the older man’s hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze before returning his attention to Marcus’ story.

“It wouldn’t even be funny but for the fact that he’s called me that in more hilarious situations than I can even remember. Like the time I walked in on him banging Christy Palameio when I skipped seventh period to play some Mario. That I can definitely remember,” the younger brother recalled with a turn of his head upwards. “‘Markers! Get the hell out of my room!’”

“You’re such a shit.”

“Too bad, Har-Har,” Marcus parried. “Now he has some other nicknames which are worth sharing with you, Mike. Firstly, there’s ‘His Highness Harvey the Eighth’.”

“Shut up.”

“And there’s also ‘I-can-Harvey-move-my-mouth’, from when you had those big ugly braces.”

“That’s it,” Harvey cried, rising from the couch and flicking his little brother in the forehead. “Of course you would tell Mike about stupid shit like that. You’re supposed to be praising me in front of him, you selfish brat.”

“He has a right to know. C’mon, Mike – back me up with some genius legal argument. I hear you basically owned everyone in your mock trial, right?” Marcus called out hopefully as he shielded himself with a pillow.

“I think I’m going to like you a lot, Marcus,” Mike assured, “but I’m not dumb enough to get in a legal battle with Harvey. He is putting me up for the time being.”

The older brother returned to the couch triumphantly at that admission, planting a victory kiss on Mike’s left cheek. Marcus rolled his eyes at him but offered him the bowl of peanuts before settling back into his seat.

“So you live out in Bushwick, I hear.”

“Yeah…well, up until recently.”

“That’s a crazy long commute to get to the Pearson Hardman offices. How long is that is on a bike, anyway?”

“It depends, obviously, but it’s usually twenty-five to thirty minutes. I could probably go faster, but with my suit and bag I have to be extra careful not to snag anything in the spokes. Do you cycle a lot when you’re in a village?”

“I wish. Security protocols mean that we have to ride around in non-descript vehicles and the host countries are so worried about us getting injured that we’re not really supposed to do much traveling on our own. I’m going to start at the UN soon, though, and with the starting salary they’re offering I’d probably have to live out on the border of Williamsburg or Astoria while I pay off the rest of what I owe to Jessica.”

“That’s awesome news,” Mike cried, throwing his hand up for a high-five only to have it ignored as the two Specters carried on talking.

“She offered to wipe the ledger, Marcus. It’s not like she’s hard up for money. Nor is she dumb enough to think that you could’ve made an income like mine jabbing needles into illiterate youths.”

“Oh, because if our situations were reversed, you’d be okay with not paying her back for what she did for you? Don’t be a hypocrite, Harvey.”

“Wait, so she put you,” Mike began, jabbing a finger into Harvey’s chest, “through Harvard AND you through medical school?”

“If she fell for Harvey’s grim mug, it was pretty much a given that she’d pay out to my adorable face,” Marcus laughed, dodging a peanut thrown by Harvey. “Real mature, Har-Har.”

“Now do you understand why I told you not to worry, Mike?” the brunet asked, rubbing the blond’s side. “Marcus might look like me, but you and he share a startling number of obnoxious mannerisms.”

“I think you’re right, Harvey. Hey, Marcus: up top!”

“Does he do that a lot?” the younger brother asked his sibling disdainfully. “Even I’m not that bad.”

“What? You have to complete a high-five when it’s offered. It’s bad manners to leave someone hanging like this,” Mike cried mournfully, looking first to one Specter and then the other.

“I don’t get it either, Marcus. Now would you two quiet down for a bit – this is my favorite part of this episode.”

“Tom Baker partisan,” Marcus muttered, shaking his head.

Mike stubbornly kept his hand in the air, hoping one of the brothers would show pity on him and complete the friendly gesture. Harvey finally snatched his arm down when the credits began to roll minutes later.

\-----

“So…wait, is that a picture of your dad up on the wall over there?”

“Yup. That’s good-old Gordon Specter, and judging from the slightly constipated expression on his face he was probably mid-solo at the time that photo was taken,” Marcus nodded as the two men waited on Harvey to secure them a table.

“How often did his band play here?” Mike continued, spotting the deceased patriarch of the Specter family in a number of other images on the wall.

“Here? Probably once a month or so; I think he would have stuck with just this place, but other gigs paid more and we needed the money. Of course I blame Harvey, since his baseball practices cost way more than me checking books out from the library.”

“Yeah, Grammy didn’t really have time to get me involved in sports when I was young. I didn’t start wrestling until high school and until then it the public library was pretty much my biggest indulgence. Go us for reading, I guess,” Mike laughed. “Any idea how much longer he’s going to take?”

“Well, he usually just flirts with the woman at the front and that gets us seated right away. Now that he’s with you, however…”

“Oh,” Mike remarked quickly, blushing at the implication.

“Don’t worry about it. Hey, the longer he takes the more time you have to ask any questions you might have about him. And don’t try to pretend like you don’t have any – I know exactly how weird he can be.”

“Okay…well, he has this thing where he always has to sleep on the same side of the bed or sit at his chair at the table-”

“Oh yeah,” Marcus grinned. “He’s a nut about always being in his spot or on his side. When I was first born we had to share a room, and I don’t think he ever got over the flexibility required to be around a baby. Plus, I’m betting you already know how routine Harvey likes the rest of his life, like the morning ride with Ray, for instance.”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed. “Umm, this next one might be something you don’t want to answer…”

“Just toss it at me.”

“It’s about Har…well, your mom. I know it’s a no-go area for Harvey.”

“That’s his Chernobyl, but that’s mainly because he was the one who discovered her philandery first. I didn’t know until dad sat me down and told me that they were separating, and by then I was almost out of high school and Harvey was well on his way through Columbia. In retrospect, I should have known something was up when he barely visited the three of us after he moved out of the house. He refused to tell anyone about it for four years because he thought she would change if he blackmailed her - can you imagine what that must have been like for him?”

“I’m sorry to have brought it up.”

“Don't feel bad. It’s not wrong to be curious about the guy you’re dating; that’s just doing your homework, right?”

“We’re technically not dat-”

“Oh, cut the crap," Marcus halted with an amused smirk. "I think you two have figured out the most difficult way to start a relationship since mankind started getting freaky with itself. Seriously, you’re sleeping in the man’s bed, and yet both of you still think this is just some non-committal fling you’ve got going. Do you love him?”

“What!?” Mike exclaimed, looking around the hallway as if seeking confirmation that Harvey’s brother had actually just asked that question.

“It’s pretty obvious to me that he loves you. I mean, in all his past relationships he was perfectly fine telling me about them after they’d ended, but he never wanted me to meet the women. In your case, though, I had to extract all the pertinent details from Donna and he didn’t even try to hide you from me. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Umm, now that you mention it-”

“So I’ll repeat the question: do you love him?”

“I can’t answer that now. It’s…complicated. He’s been really great looking after me, and we definitely have chemistry and a lot of common interests. I’ve felt closer to him than most people, and I’ve told him a lot of stuff that I never admitted to anyone else…and I don’t know where I’d be if he hadn’t-”

“I think you did just answer my question,” Marcus laughed, clapping a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Of course I kind of figured that from how you two were this afternoon.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“I know him fairly well, and I haven’t seen him this happy in a loooong time. But I need to warn you that if you cheat on him I will make sure that no one ever hires you for so much as a waiter gig in this town…although I really don’t have that kind of pull. But I can definitely see to it that you’re never welcomed in any rural village in West Africa.”

“Hey Mike and Marcus,” Harvey called from the doorway to the dining room, “we’ve got a table. Hurry up, would you?”

“Taskmaster,” Mike called jovially.

“You think this is bad? I wasn’t kidding about him forcing me to play baseball with him. I didn’t even get a run until a year-and-a-half into our games, but he refused to let me quit.”

“Be careful how much whining you do, Marcus. I don’t have to pay for your meal tonight.”

“I’ll cover your bill if he doesn’t,” Mike assured, enjoying the dirty looks the two Specters shot at each other.

“Harvey! It’s so good to see you again.”

Mike looked up from the table at a gorgeous woman – maybe even drop-dead gorgeous, considering the insane amount of her breasts on display. The physics of her dress didn’t even compute, as both the tops and the sides of her boobs were exposed, with only a small strip of fabric extending upward covering her nipples. The hemline wasn’t any more conservative, with a good four-fifths of her thighs on display.

“Jennifer…I haven’t seen you in quite a while.”

“Well I just finished eating and was about to go, but I couldn’t let slip the chance to talk to you. You haven’t called in two months, mister. Maybe I could stop by tonight?”

Mike turned from the gorgeous woman to Harvey, who somehow was able to maintain constant eye contact as he spoke with her. Under the table, Mike reached out a hand and took the brunet’s in his grasp.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. My brother’s in town and Mike here is staying with me as well,” Harvey said, lifting his and Mike’s hands and setting them on the table in full view of the woman. “It’s lovely to see you again, though.”

Mike was still a little stunned at Harvey’s admission of…well, whatever it signaled by flashing their entwined fingers. This Jennifer chick clearly didn’t get the hint, however, and scribbled a phone number on Harvey’s napkin before whispering something in his ear.

“Hopefully we run into each other again sooner than later, Harvey,” she uttered as the coat check guy handed her a translucent shawl.

“I thought I told you not to sleep with women who come here,” Marcus groaned from the other end of the table. “This is supposed to be a hands-off zone for the two of us.”

“I haven’t picked up anyone from here, Marcus. I met her at the car club. I only took her here the one night I spent with her…I hope she hasn’t been coming back here every night just to see me again.”

Mike and Marcus rolled their eyes in unison at Harvey’s egotism. The former almost began to crack a joke when another woman stopped at the table.

“Harvey, it’s so nice to see you.”

“Michelle, wow, it’s been…nearly five months, hasn’t it?”

“Yes. I guess you haven’t forgotten that evening, have you?”

“No. Look, I’m happy to speak with you, but I’m taking my brother out for a meal since he’s in town visiting.”

“Oh, that’s no problem,” the woman cooed, reaching into her purse for a card with her contact information. “Feel free to call me any time you’d like.”

“Have a good night, Michelle,” Harvey replied before the three of them watched her leave the restaurant. “Sorry about that. Can we get back to dinner now?”

“Sure. But if any more of them stop by our table when the band starts playing, you’d better stop acting like a gentleman and just shoo them away. Bob Kenning is on oboe tonight and I’m not going to risk missing his solo because of their inability to comprehend the meaning of a one-night stand.”

“Harvey!”

“Vera,” Harvey groaned as another woman made her way to their table. Mike pulled his hand loose of the older man’s grasp and opened his menu, though more out of hunger than jealousy. He caught Marcus sneaking him an understanding half-smile as the brunet tried to get the latest suitor (suitoress?) to leave.

\-----

“You aren’t upset, are you?” Harvey asked nervously as he and Mike got ready for bed. He'd made a show of ripping up the various napkins, cards, and receipts he'd received from the herd of women all evening in front of the blond when they'd all arrived home.

“Upset about those women hassling you all night? No, that was some pretty damn good entertainment,” Mike laughed, spitting his toothpaste into the sink.

“I should’ve explained more clearly that I’m seeing you now, though.”

“Those women seemed quite intent on landing another night with you in the sack, Harvey. I don’t think they would’ve given up even if you told them you were addicted to my booty now.”

“You do have a fine ass,” Harvey judged, slipping a hand into Mike’s boxers and copping a feel. “You aren’t jealous, though?”

“Well, when that one woman – Sarah – started pawing at your shirt I got a little angry, but then I realized that you picked me over all of them…at least until you don’t call for x number of months and I go dick-crazy.”

“I think I’d be the first to cave in and need some Mike,” Harvey chuckled, snatching a kiss that deepened despite the taste of fluoride and mouthwash. “Easy boy; I don’t have sex while there’s company visiting.”

“You sure you can’t make an exception for me? It’s Sunday, and we probably won’t have the opportunity until Friday night. Especially me, since Louis will have me doing all the shit he’d normally make Kyle complete.”

“Nope. Marcus has the uncanny ability to catch me in the act every time I try to get some nookie when he’s around.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. Every time?”

“Every time.”

“Harvey…”

“What is it?” the older man asked as he retreated to remove his contacts.

“Exactly how many people have you had sex with?”

“I…” he began, extracting the first lens from his eye, “honestly have no idea. I stopped keeping track when I turned thirty-five.”

“Ballpark it.”

“I don’t have your brain power, Mike.”

The blond quirked an eyebrow while the older man placed the other lens in its compartment, swirling it around in the solution. He closed the lids and moved past Mike to the dresser where he searched for their temporary sleepwear.

“Maybe…around two hundred?”

“Manwhore.”

"Hey, life is like this-"

"And you like it like this," Mike finished, holding out his arms to emphasize the point. "Yeah, you told me that one before, but it still doesn't change the fact that you're totally a manwhore," Mike laughed as Harvey handed him the red pajamas and took the blue ones for himself. “What’s this?”

“Pajamas. We’re not sleeping naked, either.”

“Gross. These are old man pajamas, Harvey. You’re a manwhore rocking old man sleepwear.”

“I’m the manwhore? You’re the guy who wants to have sex while my brother is on the other side of the living room,” Harvey judged, unbuttoning his fly and sliding his pants and underwear to his ankles.

Mike obviously decided to use the moment to press his advantage, pinning Harvey to the dresser and forcing a kiss while his hands reached for the man’s arousal. He didn’t put up much resistance, and taking a chance, he decided to push Mike’s boxers down as well. He was just starting to relax to the idea that maybe his brother wasn’t going to ruin the moment when the door to the bedroom opened.

“Hey, Harvey, do you have any aspirin? I’m still a little jet-lagged…”

“Out! Christ, I thought I trained you to knock!” Harvey shouted, hurling a shirt at his younger brother who duly fled. “See what I mean? Now get dressed so we can get some sleep.”

“Can we at least just wear the pants?”

“Fine. But don’t try anything once we’re in bed,” Harvey warned as he pulled on his pajama bottoms. “One time he walked in on me with Betty Parker not once, but twice in the same evening.”

“He’s an industrial-strength cockblock, huh?”

“Yes,” the older man moaned, grimacing as the cotton rubbed against his throbbing erection. The thought of abstaining until the following weekend was pure misery, even considering all the sex they’d had the prior evening.

“But you can’t fool me, stud. I can totally tell how happy you are that he’s here.”

“That’s utter nonsense, babe.”

\-----

Wendy tapped her pen against Mike’s desk as she waited for the man to arrive. She didn’t know exactly what was going on, but Jessica was pissed and Louis had done something so terrible he couldn’t come in to the office and that was never a good combination. The only silver lining was that the week would probably end better than it had begun.

“Hey, boss lady. Did Jessica switch our seating arrangements or something?” Mike asked as he set down a coffee holder with three cups and gave her one of them.

“Mike, I need you to be a big boy and act like a grown-up for once. Jessica wants to see you right this moment, and if you’re your usual jocular self it’s going to be an even rougher day for me.”

“Do you know why she’s angry?” he asked, setting his bag down before following her to the managing partner’s office.

“Louis has an idea, but he’s not in. She’s reaming him out over the phone right this moment - going on five minutes at least,” she explained, glancing back to catch the concern falling across the blond’s face. “That’s right – you’ve never really seen Jessica angry, have you?”

“I’ve seen her mad plenty of times.”

“I’ll allow you to revise that statement once she’s finished speaking to you…if you make it out of the office alive.”

“You weren’t peeking at any of my stuff while you waited at my desk, were you?”

“Like your fake diploma, for instance?” Wendy whispered, eliciting an annoyed look. “Yeah, I have no interest in opening the drawers of associates. Jeffrey actually had so many dirty candy wrappers in his that it drew flies. Anyway, here we are. Ms. Pearson?”

“Stay, Wendy – I need you to stop me before I burst a blood vessel. Louis, would you care to explain to them what happened over the weekend?” Jessica shouted into the phone on her desk.

“Jessica, I-”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’. One of Louis’ junior associates had the bright idea of acquiring additional evidence for your case against Dirastacco’s by trespassing upon their corporate offices and rifling through private documents. When he inevitably got caught in the act, Louis had the equally terrible idea of trying to convince the security guard to release him without filing charges. What have I taught you about doing that, Louis?”

“I’m not Harvey, and therefore I’m not suave enough to pull off such a maneuver,” the junior partner repeated in a low, pathetic voice.

“That’s correct, Louis. As a result of you trying to imitate Harvey and failing, the district attorney is now beginning a general investigation into malfeasance committed by Pearson Hardman employees. No doubt Robert Zane is licking his lips right this moment.”

“I’m sorry, Jessica. I didn’t mean to cause you any more grief. I just figured if I could take care of it early-”

“Intent only matters in murder trials, Louis, and I don’t let you take those. And you seem to have forgotten that while you are in charge of overseeing the associates, such a responsibility is a grant from me.”

“Please don’t take that away from me, Jessica. It’s all I have!”

“No whining – you’re a partner for God’s sake. For the rest of the duration of this trial, Mike will be first chair. If you get another bright idea, Louis, you will run it through him first and he will check it with me if he is conflicted.”

“What? That’s outrageous. You can’t put an associate above a partner-”

“One more complaint and I’ll have you put on administrative leave until people wonder start to wonder whether or not you’re alive, Litt. Mike, you will explain to Leyla that these setbacks do not impend a disastrous outcome, and then you and Louis will perfect your cross-examinations to ensure our victory. You’re back in court this afternoon and I’d better hear good things from my ears at the courthouse,” she threatened. “Also, Louis, get your ass into the office. The checklist for senior partner material does not include moping after every failure.”

“U-understood, Jessica.”

With that, Jessica slammed the phone back on the hook and let out a monstrous sigh. Eventually she returned her attention to the two people standing in front of her.

“I need you two to go and tell Donna to speak with me, then keep Harvey busy. Once he knows that Cameron Dennis is on our ass he won’t allow his assistant to spend any time alone with me.”

“What does that mean?” Mike asked, but the woman beside him shook her head instantly.

“Don’t ask, Mike. We’ll get her right now,” Wendy repeated, dragging Mike with her as she made for the other end of the office. As she approached the senior partner’s office, however, she caught sight of a familiar face.

“Wendy! It’s great to see you,” Marcus called, a bundle of her favorite flowers (blue hydrangeas) in hand. Of all the people she was expecting to see, he was on the very bottom of the list.

“Marcus, what are you doing here?” she asked while stealthily exchanging a glance with Donna.

“I’m in town visiting. I was actually going to drop by your desk and give you these, but since you’re here now…”

“I don’t get flowers, Marcus?” the redhead asked grumpily as she filled in a request form for one of the conference rooms.

“You already have my undying friendship and radiant beauty, Donna. Besides, these are in season and I know how much Wendy appreciates them.”

“Well, thank you, Marcus,” Wendy called, taking the blossoms. “I’m free to chat for a bit, but Jessica needs to see Donna about preparations for the party for Janitor Appreciation Day.”

“I was wondering when she was finally going to meet with me to finalize our plans,” the redhead completed knowingly, grabbing her bag and hurrying down the hallway.

“Right, so I think we finally have something concrete we can use against Tanner, Mr. Specter,” Harold started as he and his boss rounded the corner and stumbled upon the scene.

“Marcus, I’m happy that you and Wendy are getting a chance to reconnect, but could you not do it at my assistant’s desk? And where is she, anyway? I thought I saw her here not five minutes ago. Wait - Mike? Why are you here?”

“Uhh, well, Mr. Specter, I was…here with Wendy…reminding Donna about her meeting with Jessica for Janitor Appreciation Day, and then I wanted to meet your brother. You didn’t tell anybody he was stopping by,” Mike stumbled.

Harvey stared at the assembly of people outside his office for a moment while the lie hung there in the air. Wendy could tell he wasn’t buying it completely, but any attempt on her part to shore it up would only draw more suspicion.

“Marcus, you and Wendy can use Conference Room B if you need a little privacy; it generally isn’t occupied until 8:00. Harold, go back and finish up the last of the Zolinsky briefs and make sure you knock out anything Louis wants from you by 10:00. You'll be with me the rest of the day.”

\-----

“Mike, get in my office,” Harvey ordered, throwing the door open and waiting for the blond to step inside before shutting it again.

“What’s up, Harvey?”

“Mike, there’s no such thing as a janitor appreciation day. Would you care to tell me what’s actually happening?”

“Umm-”

“You told me your secret, Mike. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad, can it?”

“Harvey, you said work comes first.”

“And?”

“When I told you about me not being a lawyer, it was because that lie had to do primarily with me and I didn’t want it to come between us. What I can’t tell you now…well, to be honest, I don’t understand it myself, but it isn’t my secret to keep.”

“Is that so?” Harvey asked, sitting down at his desk.

“You trust Jessica, right? I mean, after everything she’s done for you and Marcus?” Mike asked as he focused his eyes on the carpeting.

“Yes.”

“Then you need to trust that whatever she’s doing is in the best interest of all of us. And I don’t think it’s fair for you to try and trap me between whatever issues might come up between you and Jessica later.”

“You work for her, you’re sleeping in my bed, and you think you can avoid complications?”

“You know what I mean,” Mike groaned. “Besides, I keep our relationship a secret from her, so it’s only fair that I can keep some stuff from you when she asks.”

“Which is it? She’s working in my best interest, or we’re each allowed a quota of lies to confide in you?”

“It’s both.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.”

Harvey smirked and rose from the desk, walking over to the middle of the room where the blond stood and planting a smooch on his lips.

“Harvey, you can’t do that here!”

“I just did, and mostly because you’re really starting to get this whole lawyer thing down. Jessica told me that she’s making you first chair on the Dirastacco’s case. Good job making Louis your assistant, though if I were you I’d watch out for attempted sabotage.”

“So we’re cool?”

“Well, I’m cool. But yes, I’m not going to put the screws to you to figure out what Jessica is hiding from me. I might do that to someone else, but not you.”

“Thanks, Harvey.”

“No problem,” the brunet remarked as Mike turned to leave the office. “Oh, and one more thing, rookie. There actually is a Janitor Appreciation Day; it was one of the first changes instituted by Jessica when she became managing partner. Maybe if you’d bother to read the company emails you’d have known that.”

“Goddamnit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that thing where Microsoft Office decides the writing process came way too easily, and it decides to corrupt your file and garble 4000 words worth of text so badly that despite four (increasingly desperate) attempts at recovery, nothing can be reclaimed?
> 
> Yeah, it happened with this chapter.
> 
> Moral of the story: remember to make multiple files as you write.


	18. Power Plays: Part One

“Look, Louis, I’m not trying to humiliate you. I still think you should take charge of questioning and closing statements,” the blond continued as he walked into Louis’ office in preparation to leave for the courthouse.

“What kind of trick is this?”

“Huh?” Mike asked in return, feigning ignorance. Louis had to admit that the kid was a magnificent chess player. “This isn’t a ploy, Louis. I’ve yet to take charge on a single case and we’re up against two of the best non-Pearson Hardman lawyers in the city. If we don’t work together and get past this childishness we’re going to have our asses handed to us by them and then by Jessica.”

The golden boy had a point. Jessica Pearson wasn’t one to let losses go easily, especially against Robert Zane.

“You’re not going to try and mess me up during cross-examination?”

“No. But I think we need to work out a system so that I can stop you from making an error if Scottie tries to aggravate you.”

“I don’t know about that,” the junior partner replied nonchalantly, examining his cuticles as he moved over to his chair.

“You don’t remember slamming your notepad against the stand when she whispered that you were a wimp? You nearly gave another one of Dirastacco’s vice presidents a heart attack.”

“That was one of my finer moments, if I do say so myself.”

“I don’t. How about this – if I kick the leg of the desk twice you’ll back down and collect yourself before asking another question. With the allegations Zane is sure to bring against you for what Kyle did you’re already on thin ice.”

“Fine,” Louis granted, rolling his eyes. “I hope you brought money for cab fare.”

“About that,” Mike began with a large grin, “I got Jessica to agree to loan Keith out to us for the rest of the trial whenever he’s not occupied chauffeuring her.”

“How in God’s name did you manage that?” Louis demanded angrily. “I’ve been asking for a car service for months and months now. Hell, I even tried to pay Norma to drive me places, since she never does any actual work around here.”

An angry cough broke out from the hallway, and Louis looked up just in time to catch his secretary pouring a cup of coffee over a pile of documents he’d just finished signing. She raised an eyebrow in his direction as if to challenge him to do anything about it, though he knew better than to try and face her directly.

So Louis grabbed his briefcase – the one with the actual court documents, not the prank one. It wasn’t in his nature to pass up the chance for humor, especially after he’d gone to the trouble of stuffing folders full of his face superimposed over famous images: Neil Armstrong’s tickertape parade, Nader Shah after the Battle of Karnal, David Ben-Gurion presiding over the Knesset, just for starters. It was a classic Louis Litt maneuver, and it would have worked to perfection but for the confounding compassion of Jessica’s assistant.

“First chair picks out the music on the ride to the courthouse,” Mike called back as he headed for the elevators.

Well, maybe Louis could slip one fake document into the pile.

\-----

“Travis Tanner, what a lovely surprise to see you here.”

“Harvey, I wasn’t aware you had a lunch reservation to _Del Posto_ , too. I’m meeting with a client at the mo-”

“A potential client. Hi, Tim,” Harvey greeted the nervous executive at the other end of the table as he pulled out a chair for himself. “I can’t fault you for thinking about hiring this guy. He’s a fantastic lawyer.”

“While I appreciate the endorsement, Harv, I really think-”

“Nobody is less afraid to go rooting around in septic tanks and outhouses than Tanner here. He even invents shit when he can’t dig up enough on his own. Speaking of shit, I told the chef to put a little something special in that ravioli,” the senior partner advised, turning back to the scumbag.

“None of this concerns you,” Travis replied, dropping his fork in disgust.

“Nor does anything caused by another partner concern me, but you made that my business with your bogus lawsuit, Tanner. And Tim, you should be aware that if you sign with this guy I will find any and every excuse to harass your business until it’s bankrupt.”

“Gentleman, this sounds like a conversation the two of you should have alone,” the businessman judged, throwing down a couple crisp bills before fleeing. Tanner tried to flag him down, but to no avail.

“You just cost me business, Harv. The price for settling with me just went up…double – no, triple.”

“That’s not going to happen, Tanner. You can take your bullshit settlement offer and shove it back in the place where that pasta came from, because you’re not getting a penny from me or anyone else.”

“You so sure about that, Harv? Daniel Hardman handed me a check for three million first thing this morning. And since you were so kind as to chase away any other business I might have while I’m in town, I’m now free to make your life a living hell. Oh, I don’t suppose you were going to drop the bombshell about flipping two of my key witnesses, too, were you?”

“I wouldn’t think to interfere with witnesses in the runup to a trial.”

“Just know I flipped them back. Now you’re free to watch me eat my lunch, and since you told me what’s in it…well I guess that means you get to see my shit-eating grin, Harv,” Tanner smirked as he forked another piece into his mouth.

“A shit-eating grin turns to a grimace pretty fast, Tanner. See you in court.”

Harvey stood and abandoned the man to his food. He actually had told the chef to add something to the man’s food – a habanero in one of the pouches of pasta; as much as he wanted to watch the bastard gag and beg for water he knew he had to relay Hardman’s move to his boss.

“Did it work?” Harold asked, setting down the menu he’d been inspecting (despite Harvey telling him they weren’t actually going to eat here).

“Partially. Call Donna and have her order us some salads while I talk to Jessica. We need to figure out a way to defeat this suit on its merits without turning Tanner’s witnesses against each other.”

“Salad? I thought we were getting Italian food.”

“If you spill tomato sauce on one of Rene’s suits you’ll have more than my anger to worry about. Or did you think his threats were any less real than mine?”

Harold swallowed hard and nodded as he took his place two steps behind Harvey’s stride. The kid wasn’t always brilliant, but he was a quick study. Given Harvey’s tailor’s propensity with a knife, perhaps that wasn’t so surprising.

\-----

“I don’t understand the question you’re asking,” the vice president of finance had claimed, looking over to Robert Zane with sweat dripping from his brow. “Could you rephrase it?”

“It’s public knowledge that your company paid female employees less than their male counterparts every year your finances have been published. It’s public knowledge that until 1972 African-American employees were paid an average of eighty cents on the dollar of Caucasian workers. And yet you claim that Dirastacco’s is above suspicion about other allegations of discrimination?”

“Well, that was before I was promoted to the executive level,” the man deflected rather pathetically. “Besides, aren’t you alleged to have conspired to disguise a crime yourself?”

“I’m asking the questions here, Mr. Donovan,” Louis reminded.

“Opera freak,” Dana Scott cried into a fake sneeze. Louis clenched his fist and soldiered on, aware of Mike’s concerned stare.

“But that actually gets to my next question. How did you secure your promotion to the vice president level, Mr. Donovan?”

“I was recommended for a promotion by the head of scouting and employee oversight. That’s Mr. Wren, for the record.”

“Did he cite any reasons why he selected you?”

“My excellent work record, for one.”

“Mr. Donovan, did you know that ninety percent of Dirastacco’s employees are given excellent marks for their work? Why, if I didn’t know better I’d almost think that these reviews are utterly meaningless and done for show.”

“Am I supposed to answer your rhetorical questions, counselor?”

The cornered rat was starting to grow a spine, it seemed, but that was his mistake – Louis always gave his victims a glimmer of hope before pouncing.

“My question is: don’t you think the retreats to golf courses and ski resorts with the upper management had anything to do with your promotion?”

“That is an outrageous accusation. I’ve worked just as hard as anyone else.”

“That’s just it. If everyone worked as hard as you then why weren’t they seriously considered for promotion – especially the employees who had worked at the company longer than you? Much longer than you in some cases, I might add. One woman put in thirteen years to your five and has yet to earn a spot at the big boys’ table. Don’t you think that’s strange?”

“I don’t…”

“Lame-o,” that same female voice muttered from behind Louis. He shook slightly and prepared to serve up this idiot when two sharp kicks broke his concentration.

“Counselor, the furniture is not there for you to self-treat your athlete’s foot,” Judge Sneiderman warned from the bench. “If you continue to abuse it I will have you removed from the courtroom until such time as you can be trusted not to damage it.”

“Sorry, your honor,” Mike replied dutifully, turning to Louis and shooting him a Harvey-style corner smile.

“Mr. Donovan, of the thirty-eight vice presidents at Dirastacco’s, how many are women?”

“That’s not relevant-“

“Answer the question.”

“Objection, your honor,” Robert called. “That question is designed to twist the situation to seem more dire than it is. If we aren’t allowed to cite statistics about the rates of female membership at the executive level for similar companies then they shouldn’t be able to ask that deceptively simple question.”

“Really, counselor? This has everything to do with this case, whereas those statistics are irrelevant to the issues directly facing Dirastacco’s employees. Overruled.”

“Mr. Donovan?” Louis asked again.

“None.”

“How many are African-American?”

“…None.”

“And yet everyone works just as hard as you.”

“Objection: counsel is testifying.”

“Withdrawn. Mr. Donovan, how many Dirastacco’s store managers are African-American?”

“That’s not my area of expertise.”

“You shop at Dirastacco’s, do you not?”

“Of course I do. What does that have to do with anything?”

“At the store you frequent, how many employees are African-American?”

“Most of them are either African-American or Latino. I think that goes to show our minority engagement program is working-”

“Is the manager a Caucasian man?”

“…Yes.”

“Has the manager ever not been a White man during the time you’ve shopped there?”

“I can’t remember-”

“Let me assist you, Mr. Donovan. We present again file A7 – record of employment for both of the Dirastacco’s stores on the Upper West Side. Would you read this column, Mr. Donovan?”

“It’s nothing but zeros.”

“That column cites the number of minority managers who worked at either of those stores over the past fifty years, does it not?”

“…Yes.”

“No further questions, your honor,” Louis said triumphantly, neatly dodging Dana Scott’s outthrust leg on his way back to his seat.

“That was awesome,” Mike whispered to him as Judge Sneiderman ended the day’s proceedings. “A couple more cross-examinations like that and I think we’ll be able to win this case despite all the crap that’s happened.”

“About that: Mike, you should take tomorrow’s cross.”

“What? Are you crazy, Louis?”

“Crazy like a fox, Mike. Those two just realized that the strategy they were using to cajole me into screwing up isn’t working anymore,” the junior partner noted as opposing counsel filed out of the courtroom. “Now they’re going to go back to their offices and spend all night thinking of some new way to beat me. But if you start questioning tomorrow, they won’t have a clue what to do.”

“I’ve never questioned a witness in a real trial.”

“Which is the icing on the cake. Pros don’t know how to anticipate the moves of rookies – we’ve learned to expect certain plays, but we’ve also ruled out things we ourselves wouldn’t do. That makes us seasoned lawyers vulnerable.”

“So we’re betting the outcome of this case on whether or not my performance will be amateurish enough to fake out Robert and Scottie?” Mike asked as he filed the last papers into his messenger bag. Holy Moses did that thing make him look more like an intern than a real lawyer.

“Yes. If at all possible, you should play up your natural mannerisms. Businessmen are like us in that they’ve grown comfortable by sitting around the boardroom with the same people for years and years.”

“So what? When he’s on the stand I should call him ‘dude’?”

Louis cringed at that heinous word but nodded in the affirmative.

“Yes, use as much of that gutter patois as the judge is willing to take. Try to drag out the process, too. Obviously, don’t ask the same question over and over again, but anything that makes the witness feel like he’s being kept from the office is likely to aggravate his already sensitive nerves.”

“That might actually work,” Mike assessed as they made their way to the main staircase. “So are we going to head back to HQ and develop the ultra-effective line of questions now?”

“You will. I need to get Norma a new fountain pen before she burns down my office. I’ll correct what you have tomorrow morning, but since all that’s required is being yourself, it should be fairly easy.”

“Sweet. High-fi…” Mike caught himself before he finished the request, quickly shoving his hand into his pocket. “See you tomorrow, Louis.”

\-----

Marcus pulled the pan of extra virgin olive oil-spattered potatos out of the oven just as the first resident of Harvey’s condo arrived back that evening. Preparing dinner was one of the few ways he could thank his brother, moreso because he knew how grueling his and Mike’s jobs were from the constant whining the former engaged in during their phone calls.

“Hey, Marcus. Hold up: you can cook, too?” Mike asked as he shut the door behind him, his eyes melting in astonishment. “Man, can this day get any better?”

“I don’t know about that. Where’s the grumpy old man?” the younger Specter inquired as he checked the chicken still baking in the upper stove. “I didn’t go to all this trouble just to have to heat it up as leftovers later tonight.”

“He should be along shortly. Donna told me in the copy room that he was having a rough go trying to find the magic bullet that will take care of his most recent case. The opposing counsel is a real asshole,” the associate explained, kicking off his shoes on his way to the sink. “But she didn’t want him to neglect you while you’re here.”

“Aren’t all lawyers assholes?”

“Nope. I’d like to think that there are some good ones,” Mike defended, scrubbing his hands under the running water. “There are even some good executive assistants, as I’m sure you know.”

“Very funny. But I am indeed the last one laughing: Wendy agreed to go out on a date with me tomorrow night. I even swung by Rene’s to pick up one of the suits the old guy held onto for me.”

“So you and Wendy are pretty close, then?”

“Yup,” Marcus chimed. “We were actually thinking of getting married at one point, but-”

“What?!” Mike shouted, nearly dropping the towel he was using to dry his hands.

“It’s true, but I talked her out of it then because I didn’t want to tie her down while I went abroad with MSF. Now that I’m going to be back, though, maybe things will work out after all. What’s so wrong with me dating Wendy, anyway? Am I not good enough for her?”

“Dude, if you marry Wendy then that will mean I’m sleeping with my pseudo-boss’ brother-in-law. Office politics are already confusing enough without adding Byzantine matrimonial unions.”

“Hey, you made the choice to get in bed with Har-Har,” Marcus observed, retrieving cutlery and handing it to the younger blond to place. He could hear the sound of the glass elevator rising up the shat from the living room.

“Ummm.”

“Right, I should have known he was the one who chased after you. With your…attributes I bet he made a move on you your first day on the job.”

“That’s all everyone thinks I am. At least Wendy and Jessica have some faith in more than just my pretty face.”

“I think it’s your backside that turns people’s heads. Definitely Harvey’s.”

“What about me?” the brunet demanded as he made his own way into the kitchen.

“Mike was just telling me about your mad BJ skillz, bro. Weren’t you, Mike?” Marcus laughed. He regretted his joke a moment later when his older brother put him in a headlock.

“You’re such a shit, Markers. God, why did I have to get stuck with such a pain-in-the-ass little brother,” Harvey cried dramatically, releasing Marcus so the blond Specter could remove the chicken from the oven.

“Now now, Harvey. Who went and made you dinner after a long day at the office? I even bought some new clothes on my way over to Rene’s, so you can stop nagging me about my socks and underwear. PS: You’re a worse pest than I am.”

“Who’s in whose house?” the brunet asked, striding over to Mike to get a kiss. “Besides, we still need to talk about your haircut and your disintegrating suitcase.”

“Nag, nag, naaaaag. Ugh, I make you guys dinner and this is your way of thanking me?”

“Fine. At least one of us had a good day,” Harvey lamented, getting down to slip off his shoes.

“So your patented lunchus interruptus ninja technique on Tanner didn’t work?” Mike asked, removing his tie.

“It did, but Hardman settled with him. I can’t figure it out, either; the lying bastard used his own money to pay Tanner. Harold got the bank to prove the transaction took place, too, so it’s not like he just made it up.”

“If he becomes managing partner won’t that money be just a drop in the bucket of what he can make in a couple years’ time?”

“True. Argh, I hate that that prick is making us talk about the firm like it’s nothing more than a checking account. And I just know he’s helping Tanner predict my moves, but I can’t prove a link between the two of them yet. How is your case going?”

“Louis killed his cross-examination today.”

“Louis? Mike, you should use your opportunity as first chair to get in some experience and prove your worth to the other partners.”

“I will, actually,” the blond defended from his chair. “Louis and I agreed that I would question the head of promotions tomorrow. We actually make for a pretty good team when I make sure to placate his ego from time to time.”

“Ew, I don’t want to hear about you working with Louis. It’s just gross,” Harvey moaned from the seat on the other end of the table. “It’s like watching Captain Kirk ally himself with some throwaway villain like Doctor Doom.”

“And I don’t want to have to listen to you two talk about work all night. You can have your boring husbandly chats about each other’s day once I’m gone. This is one of the few chances we get to have an authentic Specter family dinner together.”

“Keep it up and I’ll make us all watch _Star Trek 5_ tonight, Markers.”

“I thought you didn’t acknowledge that movie’s existence, bro?”

“I do in cases of emergency.”

“Hmph. Well in other news, the concierge wanted me to remind you that the hallway is not your extra closet. Apparently that suit you had out there was still hanging from one of the lamps and a janitor brought it down to the lobby.”

“What did you do with it, Marcus?” Harvey asked nervously.

“It definitely wasn’t one of yours, so I assumed it’s Mike’s…I brought it back up here and hung it up in your closet. You can thank me-”

“That abomination does not belong in my closet,” the brunet shouted, springing from his chair and heading for the master bedroom.

“Wait, Harvey! You can’t just throw it away. Those are my clothes!” Mike cried desperately, chasing after him.

Marcus sighed and swallowed one of the mini-potato halves. He’d cooked them to perfection and those two weren’t even eating them. Then again, it wasn’t like there had ever been a normal Specter family dinner growing up. And those two were probably hungrier than they were mad at each other – they’d tromp back to the table before too long.

Rolling his eyes, the blond took another bite of his delicious dinner to the accompaniment of his brother and future (probably) brother-in-law battling over the fate of a cheap suit.

\-----

“Okay, Red, I have to ask. Why did you call me out to dinner?”

“What, Bertha? Can’t two gals go out for drinks and dinner on Harvey’s corporate card just for fun?” Donna replied as the waiter set down their entrees and offered to get them each another drink.

“That is the least convincing lie you ever told, and I was there when you told Thad Smith from Vice that you couldn’t meet him for pizza because you had a ‘grade five yeast infection’.”

“This is a three-start restaurant, Bertha; let’s not talk about things like that. Besides, it worked,” the redhead shrugged. “And I’m getting you free martinis, so don’t ask too many questions.”

“You want to know about what Cameron has planned for your firm, right?” the other assistant asked, folding her arms.

“Perhaps.”

“You know, you keep telling me about how you always win the Pearson Hardman Assistant Talent Show, but I can’t see how.”

“Act ing skill one hun dred per cent. Can not be matched,” Donna mimed in a robotic voice. “But seriously, why is Cameron making such a big deal out of what happened? It’s one thing to investigate Kyle and Louis, but the whole firm? Jessica runs the tightest ship out of all the major firms, and with Louis Litt and Harvey Specter both under her watch that’s saying a lot.”

“He’s a man,” Bertha shrugged, cutting up her steak. “You know how he and Harvey were like…some kind of superhero duo…I never read comics myself, so I don’t know. He keeps trying to groom someone to be just like him.”

“Ugh, Harvey, too.”

“Difference is, none of them has the skill of Golden Boy. And yet that’s the strangest part of all of this: Cameron’s winning streak hasn’t abated at all. He’s still white hot.”

“With a tacky as hell moustache,” Donna added, clinking her glass against Bertha’s. “Doesn’t he have any better targets to take down as the DA?”

“He won his last election by promising to go after big scale corruption, but the problem is he took way too much money from the banks to turn around and start hunting down the crooks there. And with the way the corporate lawyers you work with like to flash their cash, it’s the next likeliest choice.”

“Is there any possibility we might be able to point him in another direction?”

“What do you have in mind?” Bertha asked as she took a sip of fruity red liquid.

“Well, we were thinking that if someone told Cameron about a crooked out-of-town lawyer who literally forges, fabricates, and coaches false testimony, he’d have no choice but to go after him.”

“But if he’s an out-of-towner Cameron would have no jurisdiction.”

“Ah, but he had to take the bar here and he has a sub-office in New York. Cameron could fry him for everything he’s done here and team up with the Suffolk County DA in Boston…”

“You might have something there. Cameron would love the opportunity for another photo-op, and if he can work in some connections with officials in the region that would help him with some of his other cases.”

“Do you think you could slip the idea to him?”

“Well, I don’t work in that immediate office anymore, but some of his lackeys come to me like lost puppies when they make a mistake. Maybe I’ll give one of them the hint – help him work his way back into his boss’ good graces.”

“And they think that they’re in charge. Every time one of them chips a nail we all see how tough most of these guys are.”

“Amen to that,” Bertha said, clinking her glass this time. “So how is old Harvey? Is he still seeing three women a night over on that side of town?”

“No, he’s actually seeing someone exclusively. He has been for a couple months.”

“Now that must be a lie! Harvey Specter is settling down?”

“Mmhmmm.”

“So who is the lucky lady? Or is it a he? I always got the two-way street vibe from him.”

“Well, get comfortable; it’s a long story, and of course I had to push things along at every step on the path.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” Bertha admitted before mouthing a forkful of asparagus.

\-----

Harvey stifled a yawn as he awoke Tuesday morning. It was early, and even though he’d fully intended on waking up with the sun for what he had planned, he couldn’t resist fantasizing about another fifteen minutes of shut-eye. That was the downside of being a lawyer: his clients were always calling him panicked at the crack of dawn. Never in his ten years at Pearson Hardman had his services been urgently needed at three in the afternoon.

Just as Harvey pondered if perhaps Donna told his clients to be as inconvenient as possible with him, Mike rolled over in his sleep. Typical morning Mike – hair in every direction, lines across his face from the wrinkles on his pillow…lips swollen and pouty…

Harvey shook the thought of sex from his head and threw the sheets off of the two men and down to the foot of the bed. Mike’s limbs drew inwards as his body fought to preserve whatever warmth was left, but stubbornly he refused to wake until the brunet jostled him alive.

“Unggh, I’ll be ready for school any minute, Grammy,” the blond called as he rubbed his face. As the words hit his ears and moved to his brain a look of foreboding spread on his face. “Uhh, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to call you-”

“I haven’t met the woman, but I’d like to think I don’t resemble your grandmother in any way. Is that some kind of automated response from when you graduated high school two weeks ago?”

“Oh ha ha…or maybe har-har,” Mike smiled lazily. He lifted himself up so that he could spot the alarm clock on the other side of the older man, then groaned. “Harvey, it’s 5:03. We don’t need to be up for another hour…and fifteen minutes.”

“Too bad, rookie. Today’s your big day, and we’re going somewhere before the office. Throw on something athletic and put your work clothes in a bag. We can change once we’re finished there,” the brunet announced, getting up from the bed. “And make sure to batten down your loose follicles; I can’t have these guys thinking I associate with the unkempt.”

“Shouldn’t I be getting extra rest before I cross-examine one of Zane’s key witnesses?” the blond asked, untying the knot of his pajama pants and letting them drop to his ankles.

“Nope. Now would you hurry it up already?” Harvey asked, willing his penis to control itself at the sight of Mike’s pert posterior. They really did have to hurry, but if the younger man didn’t put some underwear on fast they wouldn’t be going anywhere for the day, whether Marcus barged in or not.

\-----

“Ms. Pearson? You wanted to see me?”

Jessica looked up from her desk to the black-haired associate standing in front of her desk. She was immediately satisfied with the look of terror plastered on his kiddish face – it was a much better look than that badass façade he’d used when trying to steal Mike’s job the last time he spoke to her.

“Mr. Durant; I think we both know why I called you in here this early in the morning. Take a seat and start explaining.”

“Don’t you know everything by now?”

“You’re really not in a position to be asking questions. Instead, how about you start by telling me why you decided breaking into Zane’s office was a good idea?”

“Didn’t you want me to do that?”

“What?” Jessica asked angrily, too busy to pretend she had a clue what he was saying.

“Mr. Hardman said that you wanted me to extract a file from their office that they were hiding. He said that if we discovered that they were hiding key information that they’d need to settle forthwith, and that such an outcome would help my chances for making partner.”

“Mr. Durant, do you think I got where I am by being that careless?”

“N-no, now that I think about it with hindsight it seems…”

“Stupid, moronic, goddamn foolish? You could’ve wrecked a case that wasn’t even yours, and you did it at the behest of someone who hasn’t taken an active role at this firm in five years. Didn’t you think to ask Hardman why he was relaying the information when it would’ve been much less dangerous for me to instruct in person?”

“…No. Look, I didn’t even manage to get up to the floor with the partners’ offices. The guard stopped me before the elevator doors shut.”

“And you’re goddamn lucky that he did, or else I’d see to it that you’d be disbarred.”

“Is this my termination meeting?”

“Frankly, that depends on the outcome of the case that you nearly ruined.”

“…So what you’re saying is, my fate depends on Mike Ross?”

“I bet you’re regretting being such a dick to your fellow associates right about now, aren’t you?”

Kyle’s eyes went wide at Jessica’s question.

“Here’s a bit of advice from me – maybe your last, so listen well. Nobody makes partner here unless they kick ass or are a valuable team player. You won your mock trial owing largely to extenuating circumstances, and your briefs have all been quite mediocre. Do you see where I’m going?”

“Y-yes, Ms. Pearson.”

“There are no third chances at my firm, Mr. Durant. Learn to stop prioritizing your own career advancement over everything else or pack your bags.”

“You’re absolutely right, Ms. Pearson.”

“And that agreement?- only applicable so long as what was said in this room remains between us. You didn’t tell anyone that it was Hardman who instructed you to scour Zane’s office, did you?”

“No, not even Louis.”

“Good. Keep it that way until I tell I can find some evidence to substantiate your claims; until then it’s all just hearsay. Now go home – I can’t have you working in the office while the Dirastacco’s case is still ongoing.”

“R-right, Ms. Pearson.”

“Out.”

“Yes, of course,” the associate cried with his tail between his legs. He nearly bowled over Wendy on his way back to the bullpen, so good was his impression of Harold.

“I think I saw your shoe sticking out of his mouth,” her associate remarked as she laid out the case details of one of the partners in M&A. “Are you really keeping him on here?”

“I learned my own lesson with Monica Eton. It would just look more suspicious if I fired him now,” Jessica sighed, leaning back in her seat. “And we’ll need him for when I go after Hardman. I just wish I had more evidence to throw in Daniel’s face before the partners’ meeting today.”

“You’ll get rid of him soon. For now, though, I need your signature on a stack of checks before said meeting.”

“Ugh, sometimes I think Harvey is right. Being managing partner is almost more of a hassle than it’s worth.”

\-----

From: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 5:45 AM

_I got the go-ahead for that part of our plan last night. Should we gather up all of our participants to discuss the whole gameplan?_

 

To: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Sent: 6:37 AM

_Not just yet. I need our enemies to believe that we're over a barrel before we pull the rug out from under the lot of them._

\-----

Mike yawned loud enough to startle a small dog on the other side of the street as he shuffled into the back of Ray’s car. It was still damned early and he had a suspicion that his whole early morning misadventure was some kind of rookie hazing tradition passed down from Jessica to Harvey.

“Morning, Ray,” Mike managed as he sleepily patted around for the seatbelt buckle, too tired to turn his head and look for it.

“Good morning, you two,” Ray smirked, passing cups of coffee to the back seat. Neither Mike nor Harvey had informed the driver of their relationship, but after having him courier extra toiletries and clothes from the former’s apartment to the latter’s condo it wasn’t necessary. That time they made out with the partition up probably helped, too.

“Morning, Ray,” Harvey smirked as he handed the driver a CD. (No kidding – a compact disc. Mike was going to have to drag the older man to the Apple Store and upgrade him to digital one of these days.) “I’m feeling generous – three guesses.”

“Pah, as if I’d ever need that many. Does our little guy know where he’s headed yet?” Ray asked, inserting the disc into the player as they pulled up to a light at Seventh Avenue.

“Nope. Don’t spoil the surprise.”

“Just as long as you don’t make me screw up my case,” Mike muttered, fiddling with the hem of his gym shorts. Why was he in athletic clothes at half-past-five in the morning, anyway?

“I’m getting distinct vibes of late Fifties,” Ray stated, ignoring the previous comment. “Chicago…no, maybe…Detroit…no. This is St. Louis. Definitely St. Louis in the late 50s. This wouldn’t by any chance be Clark Terry’s trumpeting, would it?”

“Right on the nose again, Ray. I can’t pull one over on you.”

“No, you most certainly cannot.”

The driver pushed down on the pedal, propelling the car past a sleep-drunk cabbie drifting in the next lane and further on towards downtown. As the buildings passed by in the window and the banter between Harvey and Ray continued, Mike tried to get a few more minutes of sleep. Lord knows, the older man would probably have him running laps on a track or something ridiculous like that. A shiver ran down the blond’s spine as his eyelids drooped.

“I’m telling you, Harvey, Charlie Creath was the better musician. Terry was innovative, sure, but he just didn’t have the same degree of professionalism when it came to his sound projection,” Ray remarked minutes later as Mike awoke from his nap.

“Aren’t you the guy who tried to get me to branch out with my musical selections?”

“Just because I like different stuff doesn’t mean I can’t recognize expertise,” the driver called as he turned the car onto a side street; it looked like the Lower East Side. “Our guinea pig has awoken at least.”

“We’re here, Mike. I hope you got enough caffeine before you fell asleep – they don’t allow beverages inside.”

“And what’s inside?”

“Just read the sign. Oh, and grab our suits from the trunk, would you?” Harvey requested. “Ray, swing back in an hour or so.”

“You got it, boss. Oh, and Donna made me promise to remind you of the partners’ meeting at 10:00 sharp. And I quote: ‘Jessica is still smarting over you swanning in late to the last one and I’m not smoothing things out if you do it again’.”

“I think I’m going to hire an impersonator to take my place at those things going forward. Anything to avoid listening to Carol and Richard bicker about their pens,” Harvey called as he got out of the car and shut the door.

Mike, for his part, was still gawking at the sign on the low-rise in front of them.

“Nick’s Boxing Ring? We’re boxing each other?”

“Didn’t I tell you to grab the suits?”

“Taskmaster.”

“Sticks and stones, Mike. Stop dawdling,” the brunet mocked as he headed into the building.

Irritated but also intrigued, Mike pulled the clothes bags from the rear compartment, shutting it afterwards and waving the driver off. Once he’d balanced both of them and his messenger satchel, he carefully made his way up the small stairs and into a retro gym, complete with the unmistakable scents of old sweat and leather. The blond spotted Harvey speaking with the man behind the counter and hurried to join him.

“Harvey, you’re more than welcome to bring guests whenever you want considering all you’ve done for me, but this guy doesn’t exactly look like he knows his way around a mat.”

“Mike, you finally arrived. Mike, this is Nick – yes, the one for whom the place is named. Nick, this is Mike Ross. Don’t worry – I’ll be with him while he’s here, so he shouldn’t be able to break anything.”

“It looks like the only thing he can break is a sweat,” the heavily-muscled Latino judged as he stood, holding out a hand for Mike to shake while the blond shuffled around the items in his possession to return the courtesy. “But maybe I’m wrong. Good to meet you, buddy.”

“Yeah, same here,” Mike answered, turning to look around the room. There was an interesting mix of Wall Street types and professional boxers sparring with instructors and each other at the various rings. “Sorry – should I know this place? I’m not really an expert on boxing.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the owner laughed. “I’m trying damn hard to avoid becoming famous with the trendsetters. The regulars don’t have much patience for newbies, so it’s good that you’ll be sticking with Harvey here.”

“Yeah,” the blond gulped. Some of the “regulars” had biceps as big as his head, or even one of his thighs.

“C’mon, rookie,” Harvey called, walking away from the counter and towards a row of punching bags set up along the side of the building. “Set our clothes over on the hook there and then grab your gloves from my pack,” the brunet continued, setting down the large bag and retrieving a pair of his own.

“You got gloves for me?”

“Nope. These are Marcus’. Dirty as they are, they’re still less suspect than the rental ones.”

“So I just put my hands in them, then?”

“No. Here, let me help you with the handwraps. These ones are new; you really wouldn’t want to use someone else’s wraps,” the older man explained. “Now carefully swing it around while keeping it taut. This is the best way to avoid injury.”

“This is all pretty _Million Dollar Baby_ for me,” Mike commented as Harvey continued to wrap the cloth around the blond’s hands. Despite their current location, the act was incredibly intimate.

“ _Girlie, tough ain't enough_ ,” Harvey replicated perfectly as he moved to put his gloves on over his own perfectly applied wraps. The red leather was worn but showed signs of good care – there weren’t any cracks and he’d put a flask of some kind of rubbing oil in the bag beside them.

“So what’s on first? Do I get to beat up some no-name lackeys before I take on Apollo?”

“Mike, you don’t get to pretend to be Rocky, particularly not in here,” Harvey offered with a warning shake of the head.

The brunet took a few practice swipes at the black bag hanging from the ceiling, moving it back about a half-foot each time. Mike quickly worked his hands into the loaner gloves and Harvey stood aside to allow him a chance to punch the large sack. Mike pulled his arm back and slammed it into the practice object.

And promptly howled with pain.

“Ow. Ow ow ow,” Mike cried, hobbling about as he clutched at his right hand. “I think I broke it.”

“Your hand? Not likely, rookie. This is the beginner heavy bag – see how it’s got more give than the others?” Harvey asked as he demonstrated the difference between them. “It’s actually maize in there, so it’s not as dense. Take a breath and relax.”

Mike calmed himself and watched as Harvey spent the next minute pounding the bag from a number of different spots, effectively juggling it so that it moved into the trajectory of each subsequent punch. All the time he kept his non-active hand up and never took his eyes off a point roughly even with his head.

“This is your lesson, rookie. You’re still at the phase where you’re busier trying to impress others than do what you need to win. I think you were fine during your mock trial because you were still pissed at me,” the brunet explained to the chorus of a flurry of thrusts. “But neither Zane nor Scottie are going to help you in that regard. Zane in particular is ice cold in the courtroom, as I'm sure you’ve observed.”

“Yeah, it’s Scottie who’s been trying to fire up Louis.”

“And I’m sure it worked, because that man doesn't know how to box either. Here, stand over here,” Harvey ordered. Mike stepped toward the bag again as the older man wrapped his arms around him and guided his gloves. “This bag is a lot like the witness. It can’t hurt you on its own, but if you slip up it’ll sting you. Though, if you’re smart and careful you can work it against itself.”

“This is why we’re at a boxing gym? So you can offer advice on cross-examination? Couldn’t we have done this from the comfort of your bed?” Mike asked as the older man urged his hand forward in a steadier punch. It still hurt a little, but the bag gave some ground.

“Nope. The other thing you’re going to contend with is the witness himself. Rachel isn’t exactly the best exemplar of what you can expect from corporate testimony. These guys are well coached and they’re used to lying their asses off at press conferences.”

“You don’t think he’ll perjure himself on the stand, do you?” Mike asked as Harvey drew back and allowed him to try working the bag on his own.

“It’s happened before with smarter men. Do you want to go over your line of questions with me?”

“You’re okay with that? And shouldn’t you be doing this kind of thing with Harold?”

“I come here to relax and get the office out of my system. Harold needs to learn to find something like this for himself, by himself. And I didn’t drag you here thinking I could teach you how to box, although I did think that maybe this could become your pre-trial ritual.”

“Does everyone at Pearson Hardman have one of those?” Mike asked as the older man pulled his inactive hand up and corrected his posture.

“Most people develop them during law school, so it’s important that you find one now if you’re going to continue to pass yourself off as an attorney,” the older man remarked quietly.

“And what about the can opener?”

“We’re not on the stand, Mike. And even if we were I’d have a hundred different ways to avoid answering that question.”

“I might not be able to dominate this bag, stud, but I can dominate you. And rest assured that when I do, I will make you tell me about the can opener.”

“I’d like to see you try, babe. But for now you should focus on keeping your guard up,” Harvey whispered distractingly into Mike’s ear as the younger man continued to jab at the practice bag. “And start on your line of questioning so I can offer some feedback.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No this story is not dead!
> 
> Lesson from a first-time author #38: the last chapters of a story are much more difficult to write than the opening ones. You'd think that the prospect of finishing things up would be encouraging, but instead you're trying to tie up the loose plot points in a satisfactory and believable way (ie: almost impossible). I have a lot more sympathy for authors who rushed to the finish now.


	19. Power Plays: Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is a TON of smut in this chapter. Avoid about the last half if you're not interested in reading such prurient material.

“I’d like to open this meeting by welcoming back my fellow founding partner, Daniel Hardman,” Jessica announced, nearly causing Harvey to vomit. He hated how his mentor could fake camaraderie with a snake. “I’m sure some of you ran into him when he stopped by recently. That visit wasn’t scheduled, though I think we can forgive Daniel for being rusty about the appointment process, considering his lengthy absence.”

There was flipside of Jessica Pearson, however. She could cast as much shade as the best of the drag queens on Ninth Avenue – even early in the morning without a drink in her hand.

“Thank you, Jessica. If I might, I’d like to make a few comments.”

“Sorry, Daniel. We’ve got some more pressing matters to attend to first, though I’ll try to leave some extra time at the end for you to say what’s on your mind. Carol, you said you had an issue with the faucet in the ladies room on the fifty-first floor?”

So. Much. Shade.

Harvey took out his notepad and began scribbling down thoughts he had on one of his client’s problems. He wasn’t about to waste perfectly good time listening to the dumber female partners argue about water pressure and bladder retention.

“Just a moment, Carol,” Hardman interrupted, earning the immediate ire of half the people at the table (and probably the gratitude of the other half). “I think we should discuss the pending case with Travis Tanner. I have a duty to inform you that I settled my portion of the matter out of my own pocket, and I think we should consider doing the same from the firm’s side.”

“We’re going to beat these allegations, and Tanner will be lucky if he escapes without me filing suit for malicious prosecution,” Harvey retorted coolly. “If we settle with him, it will send the signal that it’s open season for everyone with a gripe against us. Might I remind you, Daniel, that Tanner never would have sued the firm if not for the illicit actions he alleges you committed during your tenure as managing partner.”

Harvey didn’t even have to turn to Jessica to know she was beaming on the inside. He wasn’t normally willing to be her attack dog, but elections for managing partner were meaningless popularity contests and Hardman was a douchebag anyway.

“Those allegations are false.”

“And yet they persist. Moreover, any settlement would require the input of all the partners, whose money they would have to part with in order to pay off Tanner…and any other parasites looking for a quick paycheck.”

“That’s a logical fallacy. You don’t know that others would try to sue the firm if we settled with Tanner. The longer we allow this bleeding sore to persist, the more we’ll have to pay in the long run.”

“The fallacy, Daniel, is that you settled your case even though you knew you were innocent…allegedly. What kind of innocent person still shells out money to someone spreading lies?”

“I’m sure you put plenty of innocent people who were too scared to fight you in prison while you were an ADA, Harvey.”

“What did you just say?!”

“Gentlemen, let’s save the histrionics for another time. Daniel, I’m not going to bring up a vote on whether we should settle with Tanner. There is neither the necessary majority to legitimize such a position nor any need to do so. Harvey will put the matter to bed before the next monthly meeting, I’m sure.”

“How can you be so sure of that? It seems like his temper is getting the best of him just talking to me, let alone Tanner.”

“Everyone else at this table knows that Harvey is a capable lawyer; whether we approve of or abhor his arrogant demeanor is beside the point. Over his past five years as a junior partner and now a senior partner, he’s made the firm stronger and all of us wealthier. Does anyone disagree with any of that?” Jessica asked as Harvey resumed his seat. “Perhaps if you had been around, you would’ve known that, Daniel.”

“And what of the elections I requested to determine the next managing partner?”

“The elections will take place in two weeks’ time, per the firm’s bylaws. I’m aware that you have announced your intention to seek your former position, and I will of course be running to maintain my position. I am not aware of any other contenders at this time, though if anyone would like to announce his or her candidacy here?- no, I just wanted to make sure.”

“Might we be permitted to make speeches at this time? It seems efficient to lay out our planks while everyone who can vote is assembled.”

“You’ve already walked over the rest of our meeting protocols, so why not? Go ahead,” Jessica offered with mild disgust. Harvey was practically drowning in the aura of vexation emanating from her body.

“Well, as well as Jessica seems to have run the firm in my absence, I think a changing of the guard is in order. The longer people stay in positions of authority the more problems fester in areas to which they’re unskilled. Moreover, my term of office saw the firm grow by forty percent, with partner dividends increasing to $350,000 a year. Given the chance to steer the ship again, I’d pursue similar policies to similar effect.”

Harvey turned back to Jessica, whose eyebrow continued to migrate upwards. He shook his head at her, knowing how much she must have wanted to reveal his embezzlement at that moment. He’d told her not to sign that damned non-disclosure agreement back when they’d ejected the bastard, and this moment was a perfect reason why.

“I also think we should question some of the excess around the office that seems to have proliferated in my absence. There are appreciation days for practically every employee, from the people in the mailroom to the receptionists and even the janitors. The expenses of firm gatherings also seemed to have ballooned – the last associate induction cost nearly $15,000.”

“Those are all cheap ways to ensure that the firm is not the target of lawsuits, Daniel. They also boost productivity, reduce turnover, and help us gather the best employees. Who sitting in this room can say they would be able to accomplish as much as they do without professional administrative assistance? I inherited that high turnover rate, by the way,” Jessica sniped before retreating behind her teacup. Wait, wasn’t that Daniel’s teacup originally?

Damn, she was in rare form today.

“I wasn’t aware this was a debate,” Hardman scolded.

“My apologies, Daniel. Did you have something else to say?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. This past weekend an associate attempted to break into the offices of another law firm, and after he was captured by the security guard, a junior partner attempted to persuade said guard to release him without reporting the incident. I find the idea of any criminal activities taking place in these halls extraordinarily troubling.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do, Daniel. That’s why I’ve already addressed both parties involved and dealt preliminary punitive measures to both. Depending on how the investigation proceeds, I may administer more severe punishment, but as of this moment everything is alleged and I’ve yet to see concrete evidence of a greater conspiracy.”

“Do you think that bumping Louis Litt to second chair on one of his cases is severe enough punishment, even as a preliminary step?”

“Clearly you don’t know Louis Litt well enough, which is rather odd considering he was your hire,” Jessica observed before drawing another sip of her tea.

Game, set, match. Hardman didn’t have a clue what he was doing.

“Ms. Pearson?” Wendy interrupted from the doorway, “Cameron Dennis has arrived; he wants to speak with you right away.”

“The district attorney decided to pay a visit to our offices in person and you still think this is a minor matter, Jessica?” Hardman asked from the other end of the table. “I think we should conduct our own independent investigation into this matter, so that no suspicions of collusion arise.”

“That’s an excellent idea, Daniel. Carol, you’re in charge of the meeting while I’m gone. When I return we’ll take a vote to determine who we think should head up that investigation, excepting myself and Daniel, obviously,” Jessica instructed quickly, collecting her papers. “I should only be gone a moment, everyone.”

Harvey rose and followed her out of the boardroom. She hadn’t taken more than ten steps before she reared up on him and dared him to follow her any further.

“Whatever you’re thinking, Harvey, you’re only making it worse by talking to him.”

“It’s not your call, Jessica. He was my boss.”

“But it is my firm, and you’re my employee.”

“I know the man better than anyone.”

“You didn’t know shit about what he was doing when you worked five feet from his office. He fooled you once, and he’ll do it again.”

“Just like you and Hardman?”

“You’re stepping on a live wire, Harvey.”

“Jessica, I hope I’m not interrupting. Oh, and look at this – Harvey’s here right beside you,” Cameron called as he approached the two of them. “I’m awfully sorry about barging in like this.”

“I understand how importantly you hold the rules of ethics, Cameron, and thus why you’re taking this matter so seriously. I would like to point out that your theory that I ordered Mr. Durant to seize confidential documents from the offices of our opposition is ludicrous, however.”

“The guilty and the innocent always make the same claim, Jessica. It’s my job to sort all of it out so we don’t put the wrong people away.”

Harvey coughed loudly at that, causing both Jessica and Cameron to turn to him.

“Well, I’d like to pass these along to you,” Cameron continued, holding a stack of legal notifications. “We’re seeking an indictment against Kyle Durant and Louis Litt, with the possibility of additional appearances before a grand jury in the coming weeks. And I promise you that we will put this whole place under a magnifying glass until every person who committed a crime is made to feel the consequences of his actions.”

“Don’t you have actual criminals to investigate, Cameron? Or did all the Wall Street money you took have a dampening effect on your crusade against ‘fat cats’?” Harvey asked as the man turned to leave. Jessica jabbed him in the back for that.

“Y’know what, Harvey? I think I’m going to start my investigation with your rookie associate. He works across the pool from Durant – who’s to say he wasn’t a part of what happened?”

“You always did take advantage of the weak and well-intentioned, Cameron.”

“You’ve still got a lot to learn, _junior_ ,” Cameron lectured as he retreated to the elevator bank. A team of novice prosecutors followed him into one of the elevators; no doubt they were as star-struck with the man as he had been years and years ago.

“Don’t trip over all your ball boys, Cameron. That’s one hell of a handicap you need: six helper monkeys just to get grounds for a case against a lowly associate,” the brunet called out as the doors shut. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about any of this, Jessica?”

“You don’t think I haven’t made a plan to deal with him yet?”

“I have a right to be informed about anything concerning that man. You know that. Not to mention that if it affects the firm then it affects me, too.”

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d make it worse for us if you found out sooner. And now you’re more caught up with what that idiot might do than the pressing issue: we still need to beat Hardman, and we can’t do that unless we get back in the boardroom and present ourselves as capable lawyers,” Jessica reminded him. “Even though you’re not able to prioritize problems, I am, and I will clobber these clowns – by myself, if need be.”

Harvey seethed on the walk back to the conference room. It wasn’t that he couldn’t recognize the hypocrisy of him lambasting someone for not being transparent – that he got. But he also recognized the carrot-and-stick approach others were using on him, and he knew that meant it wasn’t just his boss holding things back from him.

He would need to have a discussion with a certain someone.

\-----

“Mike, it’s go time,” Louis encouraged quietly as all eyes in the courtroom turned to their table.

Mike took a few deep breaths and rose from his seat, remembering to acknowledge the judge as he entered the well. The flashes of panic across both Scottie and Zane’s faces soothed his nerves further. Mr. Wren, however, simply appraised the associate once before turning to the junior partner behind the blond.

“You’re sending the kid to question me? God, you must be running scared.”

“Order, order,” shouted Judge Sneiderman. “There will be order in the court. Witnesses may not speak except in response to the questions of counsel or in the case of an emergency.”

“Mr. Wren…what’s up, bro? How are you?”

“That is not how you address someone of my stature! I’ll have you-”

“Objection: relevance,” Scottie cut in without bothering to stand. The witness was already pulling at his leash and that meant Operation Kid Gloves was a go.

“I was just trying to be polite, your honor.”

“Overruled, but you should get to the meat of the issue, Mr. Ross. Some of us have appointments outside of work.”

“Right,” Mike nodded, still a bit terrified of the third judge put on the case. He was a fair dealer, but didn’t seem to have a playful side.

“Mr. Wren, you stated for the record that you’ve worked as the vice president of promotions and employee oversight at Dirastacco’s for thirteen years. I’d like to ask you again if that is indeed correct.”

“Which is it: you’d like to ask or you are asking? You should learn to be more concise.”

“Is that correct?”

“Is what correct?”

Mike was starting to get the point of Harvey’s boxing analogy right about now. This asshole was striking back, but only so long as Mike allowed him that privilege. More importantly, though, this was part of his and Louis’ plan: they needed this guy to get smug before they could put the screws to him.

“Have you worked in your current capacity as vice president of promotions and employee oversight for the past thirteen years, as you stated earlier?”

“Yes. Are you hard of hearing?”

“Order, Mr. Wren. The witness gives testimony; he does not request it of either counsel. If you continue to flout the rules of my court I will hold you in contempt.”

“Mr. Wren, we came across a number of internal emails dispatched from your office during the course of our investigations. On October 11th, three years ago, did you or did you not inform the CFO that you were not going to promote his candidate for a top position because he was younger than fifty years old?”

“I did.”

“Do you see how some might find that arbitrary and/or discriminatory?”

“No, I don’t. Young people are inexperienced, as you’re so ably demonstrating right here and now.”

“You also described a candidate for the managerial position at a major store on the Upper East Side as, and I quote, ‘uppity’. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Dude. Seriously?”

“I want that last question struck from the record,” Mr. Wren cried to the judge and then his lawyers. The stenographer, a svelte, elderly man with triple-thick glasses turned from his typewriter to the judge with a quizzical glance.

“Mr. Zane, would you like to argue for your witness’ request?”

“It’s plainly demeaning, your honor. The man is a vice president at a major grocery chain.”

“So ordered. From now on, though, I expect you to control your witness,” the judge responded.

The steno retrieved a pungent black marker and carefully blacked out the line of text from the sheet of paper hanging off of his desk. Even if the courtroom hadn’t been silent while the man saw to his task, the squeaking would have been deafening. For his part, Louis covered his ears and clenched his teeth until it stopped.

“What caused you to come to that opinion?”

“She complained about a number of the company’s policies.”

“Would those policies include the restricted nature of maternal leave, the lack of daycare provisions, and the system of rewarding employees with vacations rather than bonus pay?”

“I don’t remember everything about her. I can only recall the impression she gave me.”

“Of the seventeen people you’ve propelled to top executive positions, sixteen were regular attendees of company vacations, is that correct?”

“I don’t keep track of that sort of thing.”

“Really? Because a common trait among those who failed to receive promotions was their absence at such gatherings.”

“Correlation does not equal causation, brat. You should have learned that in law school, if not earlier.”

Mike was reaching his limit of this guy’s patronizing comments. He had to keep the ruse going a little longer if he wanted to nail him, though, so he calmed himself before asking the next question. Scottie, ever so helpful, hummed the _Jeopardy_ theme while he waited.

“You’re in charge of employee oversight. What did you do to address the complaints that holding company vacations at golf courses in Louisiana made many employees feel excluded or unwelcome?”

“Everyone was welcome to join us. If they couldn’t afford to make the trip that was their own problem.”

“Everyone was welcome at a golf course that doesn’t allow women to play on the same fairways as men? Everyone was welcome in a town that kept its schools segregated well into the 1960s? You do realize that holding company getaways there is almost comically insensitive for many of your workers, don't you, pal?”

“Objection: counsel is testifying,” Robert called before the witness began to answer.

“I’m relaying the concerns of our clients to enhance the questions,” Mike countered.

“Overruled, though you would do well to tone down your more dramatic language.”

“Mr. Wren?”

“Our company was founded outside of this city, believe it or not, and we maintain as many of our traditions as we can. If employees didn’t like those traditions, they shouldn’t have accepted positions at our stores.”

“So no discussion of holding alternative activities for employees who couldn’t afford to fly out to Louisiana ever occurred?”

“Why?”

“Your method of selecting candidates for promotions is highly dependent upon networking, and you don’t see how excluding those who can’t afford to take part in those activities might create a vicious cycle of employees going unnoticed?”

“I spot character, both in the office and outside of it. That’s all I have to say about that.”

“Mr. Wren, how many non-White store managers are there in New York City?”

“I don’t know off the top of my head.”

“You…don’t know?” Mike asked, legitimately caught off guard by that response. Maybe he wouldn’t need to prod this guy with any more disrespect.

“You really are hard of hearing, aren’t you? Probably too many ‘musical concerts’,” the witness judged, making air quotes with his hands.

“Mr. Wren, isn’t is your job to know those kinds of figures?”

“I have a staff who operate underneath me. They take care of day-to-day business like that.”

“Didn’t you say that you spot character? If you don’t know who your own employees are, how exactly do you do that?”

“I…I’ve taught my staff to look for the qualities we need in management positions.”

“Except for the people you yourself meet at company gatherings? Everyone else just gets thrown into the stack of records for your worker bees to sort through?”

“You’re deliberately making it sound like there’s a double standard.”

“Isn’t there one?”

“No, there isn’t.”

“Setting that aside for a moment, what exactly are the qualities you advised your staff to seek in their searches?”

“Perseverance, humility, loyalty – the standard sorts of traits any company values.”

“If perseverance is so important then why do you promote men who’ve worked with the company for shorter durations over their female counterparts, by a factor of two to one in some states?”

“It’s not just a matter of how long someone has worked with us.”

“Do you intentionally avoid hiring women when possible so as to silence the voices calling for expansions of the childcare program?”

“No.”

“When there were no White candidates for manager at a store in Washington Heights, you moved a White manager from Brooklyn to that post, despite your ‘hiring local’ program. Was that decision racially motivated?”

“No, it was not!” the witness cried louder. Mike cast a quick glance toward Louis who nodded his approval.

“Why was that decision made, if not because of the races of those concerned?”

“I can’t speak to that matter; I’m not familiar with it.”

Mike stopped and let his mouth hang open for the next ten seconds. The stenographer was still typing, but aside from him no one else was moving either.

“You’re the vice president in charge of this branch of the business, and yet time and again you don’t know why anything happened. Are you lying to me, or are you just incompetent, cupcake?”

“Objec-”

“Listen, you little shit. I’ve put in plenty of good years with this company, and I won’t have you slander me when you don’t even know how to ask a damn question correctly.”

“Order!”

“You didn’t _answer_ my question, Mr. Wren.”

“It’s obvious who the right candidates are. I don’t need to do everything for my staff to get it right.”

“How is it obvious? What does ‘get it right’ mean?”

“I don’t have to put up with your crap, brat,” Mr. Wren swore, attempting to rise from the stand. Judge Sneiderman motioned for the bailiff to block his exit.

“The witness will answer the question. You can’t testify for your own side without answering the questions of the opposition, Mr. Wren.”

“How is it obvious, you ask?” the witness began. “You can see when you look at these people that they’re thieves and liars. They show up to work late, they have children with any man they pass in the street, they steal everything that isn’t nailed down, and then they have the nerve to ask for a promotion. They should be glad they’re not in prison, the ingrates.”

Mike had been hopeful that they’d get something good out of this guy, but that outburst was better than anything he’d dreamed. He could practically see the ray of sunlight reflected off of Louis’ toothy grin as he stared at the witness.

“Who are ‘they’, Mr. Wren?”

“We request a temporary recess, your honor,” Scottie eked out in a panic.

“The witness will answer that last question first and then we’ll have a fifteen minute recess.”

“We all know who they are,” the (soon-to-be former) vice president commented finally before pushing his way past the bailiff and toward the hallway.

Mike walked back to the desk dumbfounded. Robert and Scottie weren’t blinking either. Louis was busy leaving a note for Norma to buy him a new high-end racket in his voice recorder. The best part, though, was when Leyla ran up from the gallery and gave him a hug so strong it caused him to worry for his ribs.

\-----

“Donna, whatever you and Jessica have going: it needs to stop right now.”

That was out of the blue. He hadn’t said anything earlier in the day, and now he was yelling at her in the dead of the afternoon when he knew her guard was weakest.

“Harvey, I don’t-”

“It stops now. No questions,” Harvey thundered before heading into his office.

The redheaded assistant followed him, determined to figure out exactly which plot he’d uncovered. He couldn’t possibly have figured out that Jessica hired…no, that was way beyond Harvey’s level of intuition.

“What is it, Donna?”

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?! Cameron Dennis strolled into our office this morning and you didn’t tell me _jack shit_ , Donna.”

Whew. Donna thought he’d figured out the big plan.

“I didn’t-”

“GODDAMNIT, Donna. You know what that man did to us. Why did you keep it from me?”

“Harvey, Jessica-”

“You work for me, Donna. ME! So when Cameron Dennis is going to be making a stop on this floor, you goddamn better tell me.”

Shit. Harvey hadn’t been this mad even when Mike had told him he was a fake lawyer.

“Harvey, look, I was wrong.”

“Yes, you were. You fucked up big time. And now you’re standing around in here when you should be handling my calls.”

“Harvey, I am sorry.”

“I’m not in the mood for a heart-felt chat, Donna. Hardman and Dennis are on us and I’ve still got Tanner to deal with and here I thought I could trust you of all people.”

Okay, that stung. A lot.

“Mr. Specter? I finished up the brief for-”

Donna and Harvey both turned to the latter’s associate who stood frozen in the doorway. The realization of his mistake visibly spread outward from his doe eyes.

“Harold, does it look like now is a good time to talk to me?”

“No, Mr. Specter. I’m sorry, Mr. Specter. I’m leaving right now, Mr. Specter.”

“Well?” Harvey asked of Donna once the ferret had retreated to his nest. “Get back to work. I’ll be leaving for home in an hour.”

Donna walked back to her desk, more than a little stunned. She sat in front of her computer and stared at the scheduling program, her eyes glazed over. She hadn’t even registered that Harvey had turned off his intercom until she heard Billie Holiday piping out from his office and not from the little box by her seat.

She needed to warn Mike.

\-----

From: Donna (212)-XXX-XXXX

Received: 5:25 PM

_I heard about your coup in court today. Rachel wanted me to tell you that her dad is PISSSSSED, so you must have dominated. Fair warning, though: Harvey is headed home and he’s EVEN MORE PISSSSSED. You might want to call Marcus back to cool him off._

 

To: Donna (212)-XXX-XXX

Sent: 5:27 PM

_Funny you should say that, Donna. No worries – I’ve got a plan to fix up the H-man._

 

From: Donna (212)-XXX-XXXX

Received: 5:28 PM

_Famous last words, kid. Whatever crazy scheme you’ve got going, it had better be amazing if it’s going to have any chance of working._

\-----

“Mike? Where are you?” Harvey called out as the door to his home swung shut behind him.

“I’m in here,” the blond’s voice answered from the master bedroom. “I heard you had a rough day.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Harvey predicted, kicking off his shoes before making his way across the condo. “And this isn’t something where prodding will-”

Harvey stopped mid-sentence when he finally caught sight of the younger man. He was wearing nothing but one of those BDSM chest belts. They had never appealed to him before, but Mike looked irresistible, scrawny torso be damned.

“Mike, as much as I appreciate this, I’m not really in the mood for this. What about Marcus?”

“Marcus is out on his date with Wendy,” the younger man replied, his arms crossed confidently and his feet planted to their spot on the other side of the bedroom. “For the night.”

“Still, it was a long day.”

“And I’m going to make it better. You helped me shake my jitters out this morning, and I want to help you work out your irritation now,” the blond explained. “And I know you want that, too.”

Harvey swallowed hard. Mike was unbelievably sexy when he was assertive, and goddamn that belt was doing something to any vestiges of the brunet’s self-restraint.

“I’ll take that as your agreement, stud. Strip out of your clothes.”

“Right here?”

“Yes. Now.”

Harvey’s rage and lust couldn’t co-exist, and so the former gave way for the latter. He loosened his tie and removed it, handing it to the younger man. Piece by piece the older man’s suit disappeared into the walk-in, leaving him ever more exposed. He wouldn’t have noted the sensation but for the hunger and possessiveness of Mike’s gaze as he did.

The brunet was fully erect by the time he removed his boxer briefs.

“Go in the bathroom and get yourself ready for me.”

“I guess your cross-examination-”

“You’re allowed three words from now on, Harvey. Red, yellow, and green, and I think you know what they’re for. If you want this to happen then go prepare yourself for me, and if you try any more wisecracks there will be punishment. Do you understand?”

“Green,” Harvey answered with a nod. He trod into the bathroom and retrieved the appropriate supplies from under the counter, struggling to remember if he had ever been in a situation like this before now. Even as he washed off after cleaning himself out he couldn’t recall anything similar.

“Are you okay to keep going?” Mike asked from the other side of the glass door. “Remember, if you want to stop at any time just say the word.”

“Green,” Harvey assured as he worked the washcloth between his legs one last time. He shut off the water and stepped out onto the bath mat the blond had laid out for him. Mike toweled him off, denying the brunet even that simple moment of self-control.

“Good. This is new territory for both of us, and I don’t want to hurt you. We’ll both get more out of it if we trust each other.”

Something deep down in Harvey’s stomach began to ache at that display of affection. Mike was… Harvey forced back the urge to hug him and allowed the younger man to finish drying him. Once he had, the older man made a move for the lube drawer.

“No. Go lie down on the bed.”

“But-”

“That’s five spanks. Use the words we agreed on or there will be more.”

Harvey’s cock jumped at the threat. Embarrassed, he quietly obeyed the earlier order.

“On your stomach, stud.”

Harvey buried his head in the pillow and waited for the younger man to begin jabbing at his hole any moment. After what seemed like forever he felt the bed sag as Mike straddled his prone form.

“I’m not going to fuck you just yet. I know how much you like dragged-out sex, and it’s my duty as dom to cater to your wishes.”

Mike’s hands fell on Harvey’s shoulder blades and without much fanfare the younger man began kneading out all the kinks that had accumulated there during the day. The older man let out an appreciative groan without thinking; he tensed as he considered whether that was allowed.

“I want to hear your pleasure, Harvey. Moan, groan, and sigh to your heart’s content. And for what it’s worth, I wish you had told me about your shoulder earlier,” Mike pivoted as the massage continued. His calloused hands felt like heaven as they pressed into the faded scar from his surgery. “Then again, I haven’t had the chance to tell you about how I got my scar on the back of my thigh, so I guess we’re even.”

“Nggggh,” Harvey moaned into the pillow. As Mike worked across the expanse of his back the pool of pre-come in the sheets beneath the older man grew. “Aaaaaaanggh.”

“I should tape these noises for when you’re not around and I have to wank myself off.”

“Don’t you dare-”

“Ten spanks,” Mike chided as his hands took quick sorties over Harvey’s butt before retreating back to his lumbar region. The younger man dug his thumbs into the dimples on either side of the brunet’s flank and forced out the tension there. “God, no wonder you’re so uptight at the office.”

“Urrrrrrrrrghhhh.”

“Good, Harvey. Stop thinking and just let your body do what it wants.”

The blond pried the cheeks apart and lapped his tongue across the hole, causing Harvey to hiss and bite down onto the white cotton below him. Fuck, Mike was turning him into a pillow biter.

“Don’t worry, we’ve still got a long way to go,” Mike teased, deserting the man’s ass for his legs. Those damned amazing calloused hands worked their way down his thighs and calves before snaring themselves around his ankles. With no warning, the younger man took one of the blond’s big toes into his mouth.

“Nnngggaaaaaaaaah!”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your foot fetish? FYI, I’m giving you permission to answer that question.”

“It’s not a big deal for me.”

“Really? That groan sounded like a big deal,” Mike mocked before sucking on the other big toe.

Harvey’s equally loud moan exposed the extent of his lie. Thank Christ his head was in the pillow or the blond would be able to see his red face.

“Flip over.”

“What? No, I-”

“That’s ten more spanks – five for using non-approved words and five for disobeying me. We’re at twenty and counting, stud. Flip over.”

Harvey turned away from the bed, yanking his arms up so that he could shield his face with his hands.

“Nope. Set your hands by your waist,” Mike instructed as he rose from the bed and made for his suitcase standing by the closet. He returned to the older man with a pair of nipple clamps connected by a metal chain. “Any objections?”

“…Green.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Mike judged. He ghosted his fingertips over Harvey’s nipples until they grew as erect as his cock and then clamped them simultaneously.

“Ungggggggh.”

“Admit it: you were totally waiting for me to get freaky in bed again.”

“Maybe.”

Mike shook his head at the older man and pulled one of his arms up in the air, massaging his biceps. For his part, Harvey took the opportunity to card his hand across the short hair between the younger man’s pectorals. The follicles were quite coarse and it contrasted nicely with Mike’s careful kneading.

“This is my first time being dom with you, though, so I’ll save some of the really fun stuff for down the road. Assuming you’re willing to be my sub again in the future, that is,” the blond thought aloud. “And of course I want you to take charge over me. From some of the stuff I spied in your toy drawer I get the sense you’re not a novice to kink, are you?”

“I’m a little out of practice. It’s not like most of my one-nighters were looking for anything besides vanilla.”

“Your penis seems amenable to this, at least. It hasn’t stopped leaking since you got out of the shower,” Mike noted, dropping the one arm and taking up the other.

Harvey closed his eyes and sank back into the bed. His sheets had never felt this comfortable before…hell, nothing had felt this comfortable since that time he’d taken E in the break period between his departure from the DA’s office and his arrival at Pearson Hardman.

Ugh, he just had flashbacks to both of the men he despised.

“Stop thinking so much,” Mike scoffed, rising from the bed once again. Harvey lifted his head up and watched the man disappear into the closet.

The rummaging continued and Harvey closed his eyes again, unable to heed the blond’s instruction.

“Lift your hand up…no, the right one,” the younger man commanded. Harvey watched as Mike crawled back onto the bed, four skinny ties in hand. Obeying, he allowed the blond to tie his wrist to the headboard.

“You’re being pretty good, but I think we need some restraints. I don’t want to spoil the good vibes with anything rough, though, and I know you won’t cry over my ties,” Mike explained as he fastened the other wrist to the headboard. “That’s not an excuse for you to try and destroy them, though. Oh, and I know you’re the one dropping them on the floor every morning. There are only two of us in here, genius.”

Harvey rolled his eyes but let out a startled grunt when Mike forced his leg back towards the headboard. He’d assumed Mike was going to tie it to the other side of the bed.

“Any problems?”

“Yellow.”

“I’m stopping,” Mike assured as he immediately let go of Harvey’s leg. “What’s wrong?”

“Mike, I’m not sure if I’m okay…”

“Tell me, Harvey. You can trust me.”

Harvey turned his head towards the wall in shame, but Mike forced it back with a hand on each side. The younger man waited patiently as Harvey worked through how to admit what he was feeling, refusing to break eye contact.

“I’m not sure if I’m okay being this exposed. It’s been a long time since I’ve been the submissive and…”

“Do you want to stop? We can switch to basic vanilla.”

“No, I just…I’m used to being in control. This feels strange.”

“Harvey, I’m trying to show you that you don’t need to be in control of everything. Let me take care of you, okay?”

“Mike…”

“I _want_ to take care of you, Harvey. Do you trust me?”

“I do.”

“May I continue, then?”

“…Yes, but go easy on me. I’m not as flexible as you,” Harvey joked, praying the attempt at humor would prevent him from revealing something he wasn’t ready to say. “I’m going to get you to pretzel for me one of these days.”

“I should have Rachel and Donna take you to their yoga instructor. I bet you’ll have just as much range,” Mike considered, fastening Harvey’s right ankle to the headboard. “Unless you have any objections, we’re back to the no speaking rule.”

“Green,” Harvey assured as his final limb was restrained with the tragically skinny faux-silk fabric. His ass was now tilted upwards, his hole completely unguarded.

“Good. Lemme grab the lube,” Mike announced, retreating to the bathroom. Oddly, instead of hearing the blond slide open the lube drawer, Harvey caught the slight click of the medicine cabinet. “Alright, we’re all set.”

“Vaseline? Mike, that’s gross. You spent all this time massaging me and now we’re going to have trailer park sex?”

“Twenty-five spanks,” Mike stated irritably. “Petroleum jelly lasts longer than anything else, and it’s not like we’re wearing condoms anymore. Just for that judgment call I’m not going to warm it up before I slather it on your hole.”

“Eww. I seriously overestimated your degree of skill as a dom.”

“Thirty spanks,” Mike decided as he popped the cap off the jar.

True to his word, the blond scooped out a large glob and slapped it against Harvey’s tight ring. The older man shivered (and secretly enjoyed it).

“Rule number two: you don’t come until I allow it. Oh, and as you might have guessed, I’m not going to so much as touch your cock tonight. Any objections?”

“…Green,” Harvey conceded as he stared at Mike’s fully erect cock hovering near his hole. Fuck he wanted the younger man to hurry up and sledgehammer him.

“Good, stud,” Mike smirked. He rubbed more petroleum jelly on his member and then took it in hand. Harvey expected penetration any moment, but the blond simply rubbed the tip along the older man’s ring.

“Arrrrrrrrggggggh.”

“Want something?”

Harvey refused to cede any more ground to the little upstart, instead suffering through as Mike teased him cruelly. It was nothing short of goddamn torture.

“You think you’ve got it tough? I’m the one who’s been holding back for the past hour since you got home.”

“Unggggh.”

Mike took hold of the chain with his free hand, pulling on it and granting sweet pain to Harvey’s nipples. It wasn’t what he really wanted but at least…and then Mike dropped it and returned to the teasing torture.

“Aaaaaaagggggh!”

“Say it, stud.”

“No.”

“Say it. You know you want to.”

“N-n-no. Not gonna…let…you…”

“Say it.”

“Mike, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can. Say. It.”

“P-p-p…”

“Keep going.”

“Please fuck me, Mike,” Harvey whimpered, turning his head away in shame again.

“Not good enough. Look me in the eyes and tell me what you want.”

Harvey gritted his teeth and considered the implications. His head was scolding him for ceding so much power to the other man, but…his body needed it so bad.

The outcome was inevitable.

“I need you inside me, Mike. Please just hurry up and fuck me,” he confessed, staring the blond in his gorgeous blue eyes.

“Aye, aye, captain.”

With that horribly misplaced (and yet characteristically compassionate) joke, Mike pushed his stupidly long dick all the way inside the older man.

And oh, how it burned.

“Nnnnngggaaaah,” the two of them cried out in unison. Mike took hold of the chain again and twisted it, throwing Harvey over the edge of his pleasure/pain meter.

“Fuck. Fucking fuck,” Mike cried as he caught his breath and slowly pulled back. Once they’d calmed down a little, the younger man leaned down and granted Harvey an even greater pleasure: a deep, messy kiss.

“So good, stud. You’re being so good and submissive for me and now we both get what we want,” the blond praised as he moved his tongue along Harvey’s five o’ clock shadow and to his earlobes. “You didn’t think I’d forgotten about those spanks, did you? You keep count. If you lose track we have to start over again, okay?”

“Green.”

“So, so good for me,” Mike admired. He launched a hand against Harvey’s right cheek so hard it knocked the wind out of him again. The older man inhaled only to take a full thrust of Mike’s ridiculous prick.

“O-one.”

“Pace yourself. We’ve got another twenty-nine of those.”

“Aaaaaangggggh.”

Mike let loose a second crack against Harvey’s other cheek, initiating the older man’s _punishment_. It was all he could do not to grin like an idiot as he called out numbers and relaxed his hole for the next thrust in turn. When they got to fifteen he purposely neglected to recite its place so as to prolong the experience.

“I see…what you’re…doing, stud,” Mike panted as they got back up to ten.

“Shouldn’t you be pacing yourself, rookie? That’s another five, right?” Harvey inquired with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows and his trademark smirk.

“Just for that, I’m changing things up,” Mike admonished. With a pop he withdrew from first Harvey and then the bedroom.

“Mike?”

“What?”

“Where did you go?”

“You’re a bad submissive. Why should I tell you?” the blond replied from wherever he was. Harvey could tell from his tone that he wasn’t upset. No, this was classic playful Mike.

“Because you need to finish giving me my punishment.”

“Do I?” Mike needled, returning to the bedroom with a glass of water. “I think this is better punishment for a bad submissive. You think you can break my rules and there won’t be repercussions, huh? Well, I can get myself off, unlike you.”

“Please?”

“Do you want some water?”

“Yes, please…um, sir.”

“C’mon, Harvey,” Mike laughed as he sat beside the older man and helped him work his head up so that he could drink semi-normally. “I don’t want to be called sir, either. Just call me babe – that means more to me than ‘sir’ or ‘dom’ or ‘master’ or whatever.”

“Okay. Can you get back to fucking me, babe?”

“Are you going to behave?”

“Am I allowed to enjoy it?”

“Just as long as you’re not an ass about it.”

At that Harvey wiggled his posterior with all the range of motion his restrained limbs allowed him. Mike narrowed his eyes and set the glass on a coaster (thank God he was learning to respect exotic hardwood) on the nightstand.

“I was joking.”

“Break’s over. Are you ready?”

“Green…babe.”

“That’s more like it,” Mike praised, resuming his previous position. He launched his still-hard cock back into Harvey, forcing a loud moan from the latter man. “See, I told you petroleum jelly lasts. You’re going to be throwing away all that premium deluxe stuff before long.”

Harvey ignored that preposterous remark as they settled back into the pattern: a sharp spank followed by a deep thrust and the brunet desperately calling out the number.

At fifteen Mike leaned in and initiated another drawn out kiss, biting on the older man’s already swollen lips.

After they reached twenty, Mike yanked on the nipple clamps again, pulling them further than he had at any time previously. Harvey’s toes curled and he dug his fingernails into his palms as he writhed in the pain.

When they got to twenty-five Mike halted and untied the older man’s legs, allowing him more control over the intensity of his strokes.

 _Smack_.

“Twenty-six.”

“Look at what a good submissive slut you are, stud.”

 _Pow_.

“Twenty-seven.”

“My good submissive slut.”

 _Crack_.

“Twenty-eight!”

“So good, stud.”

Harvey’s cock twitched and he could feel his balls tightening to the breaking point.

 _Thunk_.

“Twenty…nine!”

“You’re allowed to come after you say thirty. I’m not going to hold back any longer.”

 _Wham_.

“Thirty!”

The brunet’s eyes rolled back in his head and he dug his heels into the sides of Mike’s ass, encouraging the younger man on still harder. Their moans synchronized between kisses and grew louder with each pull of his nipples.

It was the best sex of his life. No contest.

And just like that, Harvey fired off a geyser of semen all over his chest and face. Without any contact whatsoever he’d reached orgasm and now the blond was pumping all the come out of his balls.

Fuck.

“Jesus, stud. Gonna…shoot all my…come…in your ass. Is that…what you want?”

“God yes, babe,” Harvey moaned as his own cock continued its barrage.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanggggggh!” the blond screamed, slamming himself all the way into Harvey. He used his grip on Harvey’s legs to pull him deeper still as he shook himself through orgasm.

When Harvey could stand to open his eyes half a minute later, he caught Mike firing him the goofiest, dumbest grin he had ever seen. It was so goofy, in fact, that the only appropriate response was to return the gesture. So they remained there, heaving and sweating and grinning at each other like complete idiots for an inordinate amount of time.

“Here, lemme untie you,” Mike finally broke the silence. First he carefully unclipped the nipple clamps, freeing the tender flesh that lay underneath. Then he reached over and loosened both of the remaining knots enough for the older man to slip his hands free. 

Once out of his restraints, Harvey worked his fingers on the strap for Mike’s belt. It was just like a bra, it turned out, and he had the blond out of it in no time at all. He tossed it onto the chair across the bedroom once he’d accomplished his goal.

“Hey, my power belt!”

“I’m trying to engage your kink, dumb-dumb,” Harvey scoffed, pulling the younger man down into his embrace. He slipped a hand through the slop on his chest and then smeared it onto Mike’s forehead and through his hair. Catching on, the blond closed his eyes while Harvey made a mess of him. “Come play is your thing, remember?”

“You're willing to put up with the messiness?”

“I think it's growing on me, babe. Now would you pull out so we can do my kink and cuddle?”

“Sure thing, stud…hey, wait a minute! When did you get permission to take charge?” Mike asked as he carefully withdrew his spent member.

“When…this!” Harvey cried, flipping Mike onto his back and pinning him to the sheets. An impromptu wrestling match broke out until their limbs were too entangled to continue.

“So you’re feeling better?”

“Yup. This has been a fantastic day for you, huh?” Harvey asked, kissing Mike’s come-slathered forehead. “First you kicked ass in the courtroom and then you fucked ass in my bedroom. And to think, Jessica always warned me the rookies would try to fuck me over one day.”

“Oh, har-har. I guess we’ll have to call this the Mike Ross Special.”

“Jesus,” Harvey groaned, rolling off the blond, “Marcus didn’t actually tell you about that, did he?”

“Yup, he suuuuuuure did,” Mike laughed, rolling on top of the older man again. “I think it’s pretty hilarious.”

“Stop laughing. Don’t you realize what that means? I’m ruined; Harvey Specter will never be able to hold his head up in public again.”

“You stop being so melodramatic…wait, what about the can opener?”

“Huh?”

“You have to tell me now.”

“Why?”

“Duh, I totally dominated you and that was the best sex of our lives. Tell me.”

“That was the best sex of our lives _so far_ , babe. Just you wait until it’s my turn to really dominate you,” Harvey corrected, sliding out from under Mike.

“No fair.”

“Says the man who won the lottery with his humongous, ginormous cock. C’mon rookie – you get the water going in the shower while I order us some much-needed grub. I’m thinking South American tonight.”

“Taskmaster.”

“Mike,” Harvey called, pulling the man back into his grasp to stress his point, “you’re welcome to give me orders in bed whenever the mood strikes you. I might never get completely comfortable with not being in full control, but I’ll sure as hell trust you. And thanks for getting me out of my sour mood.”

The blond’s eyes lit up and he leaned in for one more kiss.

It was even better than all the rest that evening.

\-----

The doorbell rang just as Mike finished plopping as much food onto his plate as it could hold. As it turned out, dominating Harvey really drained the gas tank.

“I’ll get it. And you’re going to give yourself a stomach ache, by the way,” Harvey scoffed as he rose from the table. Mike stuck his tongue out at the older man as he reached for his fork to dig in to the mound of chicken. “Good evening…Harold?”

Mike slid off his seat and snuck behind the couch for cover.

“Mr. Specter, I know you said that I shouldn’t come here unless it’s an emergency, but I didn’t get a chance to give you the Michaelsen brief and I know how upset you are and-”

“Harold, it’s fine.”

“It’s…fine?”

“I was upset this afternoon but I’m okay now. Thanks for bringing this by, but you could have just given it to me tomorrow morning.”

“D-did you just…say…’thanks’? Mr. Specter, are you sure you’re alright? My great aunt had a stroke and it changed her personality completely…I think you should go to the ER right away.”

“Harold, I’m fine. Go home and get some rest, okay? You’ve been putting in long hours the past few weeks and you won’t be any good to me if you’re exhausted.”

“I still think you should see a doctor sometime soon,” Mike heard Harold advise. “Hey, I didn’t know you wore Chucks!”

“Huh?”

“Converses. You’ve even got three differently colored pairs – you must be a big enthusiast, right? I didn’t even think you wore sneakers, much less Converses. You know Mike, right? He’s really big into Chucks, too. Maybe you two have a lot more in common than meets the eye?”

“Harold, do you really think it’s appropriate for you to be commenting on your boss’ casual footwear and personal relationships as you’re standing outside his apartment uninvited?”

“O-oh, you’re right, Mr. Specter. Sorry about that…but don’t forget to get your brain checked by a specialist, okay? It’s for your own good.”

Mike rose from behind the couch after Harvey shut the door again, this time deadbolting it.

“You need to hide your shoes in the closet for the time being,” the older man announced.

“And you need to get your head examined, _Mr. Specter_ ,” the blond taunted in return.

Harvey narrowed his eyes and chased him back to the couch, whereupon he pulled down the blond’s sweat pants and delivered three sharp spanks to his bare ass.

“You naughty boy - and that even after I ordered extra empanadas when you asked me. Maybe I will start wearing Chucks just to show you.”

Both men froze for a moment and considered what that might look like before they broke out into uncontrolled laughter. It continued until their empty stomachs commanded them to recommence the post-coital feast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who wanted dominant Mike, well...there you go.
> 
> Oh, and a special thank you to everyone who's given me a kudos or left a comment. You guys rock and I always love to get feedback. Thank you for all the encouragement!


	20. Revelry and the Nadir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aside from the usual amount of profanity, there are a couple of offensive slurs in this chapter. They exist as fuel for the plot, and I mean to condemn rather than celebrate them.

Harvey woke early the next morning. He’d slept well (better than ever, frankly) after the previous night’s activities, although his butt was still a bit raw. It was a reminder of why he hadn’t bottomed much before with other men, but getting to see the wild intensity in Mike’s eyes as he plowed him made it worthwhile.

He’d probably have to sit a little funny today, though.

“Nnngghaaa,” Mike groaned as Harvey freed himself from the grasp of the human mollusk. “Need more…shut-eye.”

“Go back to sleep, rookie; the alarm is still set for you.”

“Where…you going?”

“I’m heading in early. There’s some stuff I need to take care of,” Harvey explained as he got up from the bed. He turned back expecting to defend his decision, but the blond was already asleep again. Rolling his eyes, Harvey headed into the bathroom and set about tidying up for Uli.

The enema bulb was first on the to-do list. Harvey had left it out to dry, but he’d be damned if he allowed his cleaner to stumble across the thing during her general sweep of the condo. He set it, the plastic tube, and the obnoxious and constantly disappearing O-ring back in the tissue box where it usually hid and stashed that in the furthest depths of the far floor cabinet. Joining it was the special trimmer he used to clean up any stray hairs ‘down there’ in between shavings. For its part, the jar of Vaseline returned to the medicine cabinet.

Harvey chuckled as he shut the mirror door, mostly because he was pretty sure there was still petroleum jelly trapped in his rectum…along with some of Mike’s come. As he considered that last bit he untied his pajama bottoms and took his stiffening arousal in hand. Maybe the blond was right about throwing out all that expensive imported lube?

Taking one last peek around the doorway to gauge Mike’s willingness to swap oral stimulation and finding him sunk further in the pillow, Harvey resigned himself to some old-fashioned hand power. He stepped out of the puddle of fabric at his feet, snatched up the bottle of Eucerin (a Mike-style habit he’d kept since high school) from the closer floor cabinet, and headed into the shower.

Figuring out what to say to Donna when he showed up at the office would have to wait until he’d taken care of his immediate needs.

\-----

The sound of Miles Davis’ trumpeting blasted Mike awake. He spent the next half-minute flailing his limbs around in a semi-blind attempt to shut the damn alarm off, and in the process he discerned how cold he felt.

“C’mon, c’mon! Why doesn't Harvey have a clapper for you?”

Task accomplished, he flopped back onto the mattress and reflected on the realization that he had already gotten used to Harvey’s body heat. There was also the way the older man wrapped his strong arms around him and pulled him in tight like he was afraid of the man getting up and leaving in the night. Even with the damned pajamas Harvey forced them to wear, the proximity meant the brunet’s morning wood was always slotted in the younger man’s cleft – the wetness of the head palpable through the layers of cotton.

Except last night the roles had been reversed. They slipped into the covers after Mike helped Harvey find a lead for a different case he was working, and without warning the older man had guided the blond’s arms around his torso.

“I get to be big spoon tonight?” he’d asked, dumbfounded.

“Just as long as you don’t fuck it up.”

“Okay, but I don’t really see how that’s-”

“Stop talking. I swear, it’s going to take you longer to learn to not ruin the moment than it took to teach Marcus to knock.”

“But he still hasn’t learned-”

“Exactly,” Harvey groaned as he swung his arm back and whacked Mike on the temple. Mike was about to deliver an annoyed response when the brunet gently rubbed his forearm, summarily ending the conversation.

Sighing, Mike slipped out of the bed and set off for the shower.

Once he’d cleaned himself up and gotten dressed, he trod out into the kitchen. Beside the coffee pot, which was still half-full and fairly warm, Harvey had left him a note:

_Every day is a new chance to screw something up, but at least you weren’t terrible as big spoon. Pick up some orange juice ( NO PULP!) on your way back tonight. – H_

It was the first time Mike had encountered anyone who signed off with just his first initial, but it was exactly the kind of thing he expected of the older man. Smiling, Mike poured the much-needed caffeine into the nearby thermos and loaded it into his bag. He started for the shoe rack but turned back and slipped the note into his breast pocket, partly because he’d probably forget the orange juice, but also because he had developed the stupid habit of preserving anything related to Harvey – texts, takeout receipts, that playbill, and everything else.

Clearly he’d caught a contact hopeless-romantic high from spending too much time around Rachel.

Mike popped his shoes on and gave the condo one last cursory glance; after he’d assured himself that there were no active fires, he threw his bag over his shoulder, grabbed his helmet, and pulled the door open.

“Marcus is that…you’re not Marcus!”

“Who-”

“Messy boy! Messy, messy boy!”

The short and stout blonde hoisting two large bags seized Mike before he could pull away from the doorway. She pushed him against the door and retrieved a pair of tweezers from her purse, closing what little distance stood between them. Fearing that this was the beginning of a horror movie, Mike shut his eyes tight; it didn’t become obvious that she was only removing lint from his jacket for an embarrassingly long moment.

“How on earth did you get so much fuzz on this suit?”

“Wait…are you Uli?”

“Uli Müller, at your service,” the woman beamed. “I come prepared to clean any mess, even messy boys. You must be Mike.”

“Yeah…did Harvey tell you about me?” the blond asked as he held out his hand for the woman to shake; her grip was even stronger than Jessica’s, i.e. terrifyingly firm. She returned to her previous task afterward, turning him around to get at the lint on the side of his trousers.

“I was the one who asked. I was worried that maybe Harvey had a nervous breakdown since his condo became so messy so quickly.”

“I’ve been on my best behavior – it can’t have become that dirty, could it?”

“Really? That wasn’t your stray sock on the windowsill, or your briefs lying behind the hamper? That stack of legal papers on the desk in Harvey’s office-”

“Okay, okay, so I’m not at Harvey’s level of neatness. Is that a crime?”

“Don’t misunderstand me, Mr. Ross, I’m quite glad there’s someone else here. It must sound strange coming from a German, but Mr. Specter is a little too efficient; a man shouldn’t be quite that clean. It’s a signal that there isn’t enough going on in his private life to keep him busy.”

“So it doesn’t have anything to do with increasing the amount of time you’re here?” Mike laughed, earning a strange look from the woman. It was a mixture of approval and scolding, like she considered him an equal, but only just.

“You’re pretty sharp, but I get paid per visit rather than by how long I’m here. To be fair, though, you aren’t too messy…yet,” she admitted, pulling a dustpan out of her other bag. She raised it menacingly before continuing, “but if you make my job difficult I will punish you appropriately.”

“Understood,” Mike swallowed, throwing his arms up in defense.

“Hey, Uli!”

Marcus emerged from the elevator and strolled over to the other two blonds, wrapping his arms around the woman. Her stern face melted into a beaming smile as she hugged him back enthusiastically.

“Oh, my darling Marcus. How have you been? You look a little skinny – how about I make you some of my chocolate cake while I’m here cleaning? I only ask that you tell me all about your travails overseas.”

“Hey, Marcus is way messier than me!” Mike cried irritably. The other two shot him questioning looks before passing him on their way into the condo. Mike would have pressed the point, but his phone rang and he saw that it was Wendy.

“Morning, boss lady.” He really wanted to make a crack at Marcus staying the night, but…well, obviously that would have had major negative consequences. “Is something wrong?”

“You’re not joining Louis for the meeting Zane called. Jessica wants you to meet with a potential client, so Steve will drive you upstate once you get to the building. You’ll answer her questions once you return.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve sent you an email with all the relevant details. I told Steve to bring an external battery for your phone in case you don’t have enough charge to get through all of the information.”

“Wait!”

She’d already disconnected.

Sighing for the second time that morning, Mike hurried down the hall and pressed the call button for the lift. It already seemed like this was going to be a long day.

\-----

Donna strutted out of the elevator and down the corridors toward her boss’ office. She’d been at her nadir after Harvey scolded her yesterday afternoon, but upon getting home she’d remembered that she was Donna Fucking Paulsen. Men had no power over her, not even that grumpy, griping idiot she’d come to think of as her long-lost older brother.

“Good morning, Donna!” Louis shouted from his office.

“Morning, Louis,” she replied as she sashayed down the hallway in her five-inch Loubous.

“You’re looking gorgeous this morning. Do anything special last night?” the junior partner continued.

“I _always_ look gorgeous, Louis,” she reprimanded, twirling back to flip her hair at him. “And no, I’m not going to talk to Rachel for you, so you can go ahead and decide what to say to her on your own.”

“Goddamnit.”

“I’m not damning anything today, Louis, except your rotten attitude,” she derided as she performed another scenic 180.

Killed it.

Setting her bag down on her desk, she turned to find her boss already sitting at his desk. Clearly Mike had managed to calm the muttering volcano, as he generally came in a few minutes late the morning after a bad day. Adding to that was the smirk on his face…he wasn’t just putting on an act, either. No, if he were pretending things were great the curvature of the ends of his lips would be less pronounced.

He was sitting at an odd angle, though.

“Morning, boss,” she called as she pushed past the door. “I just wanted to say-”

“Let’s just pretend yesterday didn’t happen, okay?” Harvey requested without looking up from the computer screen. “I don’t want to dwell on the mistakes in judgment either of us made any longer.”

“Where am I?” Donna cried, looking around the office to make sure she hadn’t stumbled into some Japanese hidden camera show. “Who _are_ you?”

“Donna, there’s a lot we need to do today, so I’d appreciate it if we could keep the dramatics to a minimum,” the senior partner suggested from behind his laptop. He readjusted himself in his seat a little a moment later, swinging from leaning over one side to the other.

Oh ho – so that’s what happened.

“Mike plowed you like a field of wheat last night.”

“Gentlemanly code, Donna,” the brunet coughed in shock.

“Nope. That’s not going to work this time, buddy boy,” Donna sang, making her way toward the man’s desk. “I’m completely positive that the word ‘gentle’ describes exactly none of what happened last night. Hold on a second – are those ligature marks on your wrists?”

“Huh?” the man asked, quickly pulling his cuffs forward to cover the stretch of skin in question.

“They’re pretty faint,” Donna observed after grabbing the nearer of Harvey’s arms and pulling away the impeding material, “but they’re definitely there.”

“If he’d just used properly wide ties…”

…

“Oh! My! God! You let him tie you up?!”

“What?! No! And for Christ’s sake, keep your voice down!”

“Stand up.”

“Donna, go do your work.”

“Harvey Reginald Specter, stand up right this minute.”

What followed was a comical struggle as Donna tried to wrench Harvey upwards from his chair, and he, in turn, tried to hold his ground. She knew he wouldn’t use his full force against a woman (let alone her), though, and she decided to play on his chivalry. Releasing his arm at an opportune moment, Harvey fell downward sharply and let out a pained grunt. Once he’d risen to walk off the sting, Donna could see the towel and ice pack lying on the seat cushion.

“I guess he dun cornholed you good, son,” Donna mocked in her best Southern twang; the subsequent look on her boss’ face was completely priceless.

“It’s more the span…I suppose you’ll be dreaming about the thought of us screwing tonight, huh?” Harvey asked as he folded the towel and carefully resumed his seat.

“You think I don’t do that every night- what? Gotta go,” she covered, fleeing toward the door in double time.

“Wait, Donna. I meant what I said about putting yesterday behind us. And I’m…I regret shouting at you, but you know what that man does to me.”

“Cameron Dennis inspires much the same sentiment in me, too, Harvey. As does that little weasel Cameron, the so-called assistant. And I am sorry for not telling you, but Jessica is the boss of both of us,” the redhead stated, reaching for her phone as the text message alert sounded. “Speaking of which…holy shit.”

“What is it?”

“Harvey, I think you’ll want to stand for this.”

“Not that again, Donna,” the senior partner replied irritably.

“No, I mean you’re going to want to go and talk to her once you’ve heard what I’m about to tell you.”

\-----

“Morning, Steve. I didn’t even know you were a driver,” Mike greeted the other man as he climbed into the passenger seat.

“Good morning, Mike,” the erstwhile security officer replied as he repositioned the rearview mirror. “I’m not normally a chauffer, but Jessica offered me time-and-a-half for the day and Manuel wanted the extra hours since he’s saving up for a pair of earrings for his girlfriend. How could I refuse?” he grinned.

“My boss is the Godfather, isn’t she?”

“Oh, most definitely. Plus, now I get to break out of the city for a bit. You ever been to Albany?”

“Once for Civics class in middle school. It won’t be the same without all the Autumn foliage.”

“At least this time of year there won’t be much traffic on the roads up there, though; different story down here, of course. Wendy told me that you have quite a bit of reading to do, so I’ll let you get to it,” the burly man suggested, turning the car towards the south end of the Park and the West Side Highway.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“You mind if I put some music on?”

“Driver’s privilege, right?” Mike laughed as he checked the size of the file: half a gigabyte.

Ugh.

Steve stuck his phone into the mount at the base of the dashboard and flicked the screen a few times from muscle memory as they waited at the last intersection. The first track started and Mike had to look down to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.

Steve was a BABYMETAL fan.

“Oops. Wrong playlist,” the security guard (with a softer side, as Mike could tell) blushed, moving to correct his error.

“No worries,” Mike assured, patting the other man on the shoulder. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“It had better be,” Steve warned, “but I was more concerned about not making your reading difficult.”

“I’m the king of headbanging my way through legal briefs.”

“In that case,” the driver shrugged, allowing the song to continue. “My niece introduced them to me, by the way. I’m not an expert in the genre.”

“Does BABYMETAL even have a genre?” the blond asked, clicking back to the first page.

After that there were only a handful of interruptions – mostly Steve pointing out scenic views once they’d left the municipal boundary. Mike had to admit that even with all the leaves still green it was a pretty magnificent sight, and he could understand why multiple lunch conversations centered on Rachel and Donna arguing about their favorite bed and breakfasts up here.

The reading itself was rather boring. Mike was going to meet with the chief officers of an import/export firm that subcontracted for some major American companies based in Europe. They’d just relocated from the city to save on overhead and were looking for new legal representation now that they didn’t have to use bargain basement pay-conditional-on-victory law offices.

They weren’t a major prospect, though, which was probably why Jessica was sending him in her place. Ideally, that meant that he might be able to sign them as the first part of his own portfolio of clients, but he doubted that they’d want to have a first-year associate as their primary counsel.

“You finished with everything?”

“Yup. Are we almost there?”

“Should be, but I’ll need you to help me look for the right building. When I checked the map earlier I saw that Sand Creek Road goes on and on, and the GPS isn’t accurate this far from downtown. We’re looking for number fifty-two.”

“It’s nothing but warehouses here. Is there corporate headquarters really one of these buildings?” Mike asked of himself audibly as the car continued down the long stretch of road. “Wait, is that a sign for it there?”

“Yeah, looks like it,” the other man nodded as he slowed to turn onto the side street. “How long do you think it will take?”

“This is just a preliminary meeting, so it all depends on how quickly I can figure out how much they’d agree to pay us. You want to check out the town?”

“Better than waiting in the parking lot,” Steve shrugged as they turned again for the large brick box hidden by a row of trees. “For what’s worth – and I’m not a lawyer like you – don’t forget who you work for while you’re in there.”

“Giving me advice, huh?”

“Don’t take it the wrong way. I’m just saying that it’s a lot harder for people to intimidate you when you know you’ve got Jessica Pearson on your side.”

“Thanks, Steve, but I’m not even sure we’ll take these guys on as clients. I do, however, wish Jessica had come along with me, but then she seems to generally throw me into things head first.”

“As long as you’ve got your head screwed on right, I’m sure things will turn out for the best. Good luck, kiddo – give me a ring when you’re ready to go back,” Steve instructed as Mike hopped out of the car.

“Mr. Ross?”

“Yeah…yes, that’s me,” Mike corrected himself as the receptionist held the door for him. He also took the opportunity to straighten out his back and puff up his chest. “You’ll take me to the conference room?”

“Yes, sir,” the black-haired woman affirmed, waving him into the building. “Name’s Amy – here’s my card. Misters Ridge and Guelph – the CEO and CFO, respectively – are eager to meet with you. Do you need anything before the meeting: coffee, water…?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Have you worked here long?”

“A little while,” she answered cryptically. “I’m from the city, like you. I should warn you that you might have a bit of…culture shock…in dealing with those two; you’ll see what I mean once you sit down with them. Don’t…well, don’t think we’re all the same, okay?”

“Umm, got it.”

“Thank you. Aaaaand we’re here,” she announced, throwing a door open for him. “Mr. Ridge, Mr. Guelph, this is Mike Ross from Pearson Specter.”

Mike threw out his hand as the two men stood from the opposite side of the table. He tried his best to shake as hard as Uli, and it seemed to impress them.

“Good to meet you, Mike. May we call you Mike?”

“Yes, that’s quite alright.”

“Great! We know you can’t bill us for this consultation, so we might as well not waste too much of your time, right?” the CFO, Guelph, urged.

“That’s quite generous of you, but I came all the way up here, so it would be a little silly to rush through things, right?”

“I like your thinking,” he continued. “Already better than our last attorney.”

“I don’t think that was your only reason for terminating your contract with him, though, was it?”

“Oh no,” the CEO, Ridge, chimed in as he walked over to the bar at the end of the room. “He was a complete lily-livered faggot. Completely useless, and when we told him we wanted to scrap that ‘safe workplace’ bylaw of the little firm we bought out, he actually had the nerve to argue against it. Do you drink bourbon?”

Mike suppressed his gag reflex and nodded politely. Much as he wanted to leave the room in a huff, Jessica had tasked him with at least getting some business details out of these two. He definitely didn’t see himself returning, though.

“If an employer can’t hire and fire whoever he wants, what is this country coming to? At least things are better once you get out of that giant cesspool – not as many putrid vages, at least.”

\-----

“Here I thought you were stopping by with a reasonable offer.”

“Louis,” Robert Zane chuckled, “when have I ever been anything less than reasonable? In fact, I consider this offer to be nothing short of magnanimous.”

“You’re offering to throw Mr. Wren under the bus – you’re throwing my clients table scraps instead of actually addressing the issues that kept them from rising within their company.”

“Look, my clients terminated his employment first this morning, and I just told you that we’d be willing to testify on behalf of your clients in a civil suit aimed solely at him. He’s the bad guy here, not my clients.”

“That’s utter bullshit. I don’t know what you knew when you agreed to take up their defense, but after the outburst in court yesterday and all the testimony from all the other witnesses you should know damn well exactly how far the culture of exclusion goes within Dirastacco’s,” Louis condemned angrily. “If you were any one of those women denied a promotion on some stupid, trumped-up accusation-”

“Those women aren’t me, and I didn’t get where I am by complaining. I fought off idiots like that with my own two hands and rose up the ranks by myself.”

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?- believe that no one ever played a role in helping you get past life’s hurdles?”

“Why? Just because I’m a black man that means I need a bunch of feel-good White people to bail me out and fight off the mean ol’ racists?” Zane speared with a faux-pathetic expression. “That’s probably the most offensive assumption anyone ever made about me.”

“If you want to go through life believing yourself to be Horatio Alger, Robert, then that’s your prerogative. However, when you actively stamp on people who only want the chance to prove their worth, that’s something else entirely.”

“So I should just shy away from any case involving race because it hits too close to home? Is that what you’re saying?”

“You wouldn’t be getting this upset if it didn’t, Robert.”

“I’m going to go ahead and note your refusal to accept our more-than-generous settlement terms. Maybe if that kid Ross was here he’d be talking some sense into you like he does in court,” Zane scoffed as he closed his briefcase and made for the door.

“Louis, I got the precedents that Devon needed for the Netham brief, but I can’t find him. Is it alright if I leave them with you?”

“Oh, this is a new low, Louis,” Robert warned as he caught sight of his daughter in the other doorway. “You’re actually trying to use my daughter against me?”

“Use me against you?” Rachel asked, confused. “I need to drop off these precedents. I didn’t even know you were going to be in the building today.”

“So this is all just a perfect coincidence, then?”

“Dad, you know how I feel personally about this case, but I’m not involved in it and I’ve never tried to get you to change your mind because someone ordered me.”

“Robert, I didn’t tell her to come here-”

“No, I see this for what it is. You’re a low-down bully trying to pimp my daughter out to do your dirty work because you know you’ve got a dead case. It’s disgusting, and if I had any more time of day to waste on you I’d refer it to the Bar for punitive measures.”

Louis turned back to Rachel, who looked like she’d just burst a blood vessel.

“‘Pimped out’? You want to bring this in here?- fine! What I think is is that you’re pathetic, dad. You take money from a bunch of creeps and then blind yourself to the reality of the situation you’re arguing about.”

“That money put you through prep school and NYU, Rachel.”

“Because I’m supposed to know to divest myself of your earnings as a child? And don’t act for a second like you’re so desperate that you need to take cases like this.”

“It’d put you through law school, if you ever got serious about it.”

At this point Louis knew any chances for deescalation had passed, but with a Zane at either doorway the only method of retreat left was jumping out the window.

He was seriously considering it.

“You ALWAYS have to go there, don’t you?!” Rachel screamed, throwing the stack of bookmarked reference texts to the ground. “You’re the most _cynical, stubborn, patronizing, egotistical ASSHOLE_ on the planet when you get into a case. I swear, I have no idea how mom puts up with you when you’re like this.”

“When I’m fighting for what I believe?”

“But you don’t believe it – any of it!”

“And how would you even know that? How would you know what I’ve endured? Everyone here thinks you’re White and you let them think that.”

Louis could swear he saw Rachel’s hair writhe like a nest of snakes when that line dropped.

“Oh here we go – I’m only half Black and therefore I must get the best of both worlds, huh?! Well how about this: Professor Goldberg,” Rachel sneered, walking out of the room and letting the door shut behind her. “DON’T CALL ME!”

It took Louis all of five seconds to flee the conference room once she’d departed. He spent the rest of the day holed up in his office, having to send Norma out to get his afternoon bran bar because the kitchen was on the far side of Rachel’s office.

\-----

“Jessica?”

“You’ve finally returned. Don’t think I didn’t find out you two took the scenic route back into town.”

“I was trying to get the awful taste out of my mouth, and treating Steve to lunch alone didn’t quite do it,” the blond defended as he checked the clock. Damn, it was already half-past three.

“So you think it’s appropriate for you to unilaterally decide who is and is not worthy to be a client at my firm?” the managing partner pivoted, prodding the conversation toward her main concern.

“It didn’t take me five minutes to figure out that they’re a ticking time bomb. If we hire them, then we’ll be just as bad as Robert Zane.”

“Lawyers can argue both sides of any case, Mike.”

“But just because we can doesn’t mean that we should.”

“Oh?”

“The general trajectory of workplace discrimination cases is in the favor of employees, especially when the language and actions of their employers are explicit,” he explained, plopping down into one of the seats. Mike wasn’t sure what point his boss was trying to stress by arguing about this, but it seemed like it might take a while.

“And a first-year associate is entitled to make those decisions?”

“You chose to send me, Jessica, and the fact that you did while I’m involved in the final stages of a major case says to me that it wasn’t an off-hand decision. More importantly, you had Steve drive me up there, which makes me think you were already aware of how bigoted their top-level management is, or else you would have loaned me Keith.”

“Keith was busy driving me earlier.”

“Why did you pull me away from Lelya’s case, anyway? This was a small deal; it could have waited. I should have been there when Robert came to offer settlement terms.”

“Do you think I don’t know what I’m doing, Mike?” Jessica asked, turning her head up from the documents on her desk to lock gazes.

“N-no, that’s not-”

“Damn right, because my judgment is just fine. Yours, however, is still clouded by your emotions. Just because those idiots said some stuff you didn’t like you get to write them off? Did John Adams not defend those British soldiers just because popular opinion was against them?”

“Way, way different, Jessica.”

“How so?” Though she’d asked for his reasoning, she turned her head back to the stack of paperwork.

“They were facing criminal charges and the possibility of execution. The worst suffering these idiots will have to endure is putting their company into bankruptcy proceedings after getting hit with huge court-ordered fines.”

“And we can’t nickel and dime them until that day comes, Mike? If lawyers only defended nice people there wouldn’t be enough clients for a single firm – on the entire planet.”

“In this case, boss, the moral line and the bottom line are congruent. They’re a tiny fish and the potential to damage the reputation of Pearson Hardman is enormous.”

“Reputation?”

“Pearson Hardman is regarded as the fairest workplace among the city’s big firms, and not for nothing. You yourself instituted all those appreciation days, the office in HR for speedy mediation of anonymous employee complaints, and if I’m not mistaken, cleared out a lot of the racists with equity when you took the top spot.”

“Y’know, you really should have used that line when I first interviewed you,” Jessica smirked as she signed her name on one of the forms. “It works a whole lot better than a briefcase full of hash.”

“So you concede the point?”

“I never said I was for taking on a bunch of bigoted idiots, Mike. The point of this was to get an idea of _your_ judgment and your ability to handle a difficult situation entirely on your own. The last thing I need around here is another yes man.”

“You’re still testing me?” he groaned.

“Correct. And I’m a little disappointed that you weren’t able to stomach their bullshit any longer than you did, but I suppose that’s understandable. Steve said you bailed after just a half hour.”

“It was more the alcohol they forced on me. I think they thought if I was drunk that they could get me to sign off on a contract,” Mike admitted, palming his forehead to soothe the hangover he felt approaching. “That’s why I delayed coming back here, FYI. I didn’t think you’d want your associate stumbling around the office drunk from morning liquor.”

“No, I wouldn’t have liked that at all. Especially not on a day like this.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Did you get any idea of whether the business itself is in good shape?”

“They’ve got one good receptionist, at least. But as to the business – it seems like they’re a bit overstretched. Obviously, they’re not going to show us their books unless we ink an agreement and assume confidentiality, but they just bought a smaller company and moved their headquarters to cut costs.”

“And that says what to you?”

“It says that they don’t have much of a cushion in case business sours, and with the way they’re treating the employees from the other company – especially the LGBT ones – my guess is that that investment won’t be worth much. It seemed like they were going to fire a lot of them, or at least they will once they think they’re safe from retaliation.”

“Have you contacted their competitors?”

“Today? In the not-even five hours since I left their headquarters?”

“If it were me, I would have been on the phone with them immediately. None of the information you acquired is confidential, and you’ve presented a hell of a case for one of them to swap out their counsel for us,” Jessica considered, easing back in her chair. “I guess that means you get a B- for today.”

Mike scowled at her. “All of your tests are rigged.”

“Whining knocks off a half-grade.”

“Wait a minute…you didn’t send me off to see those guys to assess me; at least, that wasn’t the primary reason.”

Jessica perked up and with a raised eyebrow she induced Mike to continue his reasoning.

“This wasn’t about what happened up there. No, you wanted me out of the building and you used that client meeting as an excuse,” Mike surmised. “What was…you used Rachel, didn’t you?”

“I knew I was right to keep you away,” the managing partner nodded, satisfied.

“That’s not…Jessica, we can win our case without resorting to tricks.”

“Relax, Mike. I didn’t order Rachel to shame her father over his legal representation of racists. I did tell Louis to do that, but I also knew that he didn’t have the guts to do it, either.”

“But you still got what you wanted, right?”

“Rachel is a thinking, breathing human being. She chose to work here because she didn’t want people to think she got where she did, much less where she’s going, on the back of her father’s name. Isn’t she allowed to have an opinion when he takes up the defense of a bunch of bigoted buffoons?”

“Of course she is, but you still got what you wanted out of the interaction.”

“A happy coincidence. But Mike, outbursts like these are why I’m still testing you. You are not the arbiter of ethics; in fact, the idea of you calling someone else out for being unethical is patently absurd, or do I need to remind you of the fraudulence of your degree, license, and-”

“No.”

“Can you accept that sometimes people use questionable means to achieve positive outcomes?”

“I don’t like it.”

“Accepting and endorsing aren’t the same. I can accept Louis’ single-minded devotion to outperforming his peers while at the same time detesting his lack of collaboration with his fellow partners.”

“It’s just…you respect me enough to send me to determine whether or not we should hire clients, but you don’t tell me about plans because you think I can’t handle them.”

“That’s a fair point. I guess I should tell you about the real reason why I didn't want you here this morning.”

“It wasn’t-”

“No, that was part of it, but…Darrell passed away in his sleep last night.”

Mike’s face froze as he tried to process everything that had happened through the lens of this new information. “Oh, I didn’t know.”

“I wanted it that way. Mike, I don’t like to be surrounded by sympathy and condolence – that’s just not how I grieve. I think we’re alike in that way.”

“Yeah. You didn’t get too many people bothering you?”

“Harvey stopped by and gave me some kind words. Louis…well, he tried. After that I got Wendy and Donna to help shoo people away…it’s funny, but I think I got more done this morning than just about any other day in months,” Jessica observed remorsefully, standing and walking towards the window. “Mike, I want you to know me.”

“Jessica, we’ve worked together for months.”

“You can work with someone for years and not really know him or her. Daniel Hardman is a perfect example; I fought with him in the trenches and let him talk me into believing that he was a real friend. He told me to my face that he didn’t give a damn what my background was, so long as I was a good colleague. But he was even more abusive than the idiots in the bullpen who called me ‘Dark Meat’, because he played on how vulnerable and desperate for validation I was.”

Mike watched as his boss walked over to the cart with the tea set and filled two cups with the brew. She handed one to him and returned to her seat with the other.

“I don’t always announce my attacks like Harvey, and I’d be the first to tell you that some lines need a little stretching, but even I have boundaries I don’t cross. You might not agree with my decisions, but I hope you can trust that this firm and all the people who work here are my greatest concern. And I trust that you’ll voice your displeasure when I lose my head, unfathomable as that might seem now.”

“Did you ever have a conversation like this with Harvey?”

“I’m not a black widow. Exactly how many ex-husbands do you think I’ve had die on me?” she dodged effortlessly. Instinctively Mike knew to drop any attempt to force an answer to the question.

“So basically what you’re saying is, you killed three birds with one stone today?” he asked instead.

“No, I fixed three problems with one ex-stoner,” Jessica smirked into a sip of tea. “I’m a chess player, Mike.”

“Hey, I never got a chance to ask about your match with Grammy-”

“Uh-uh.”

“Why doesn't anyone ever just answer my questions?”

“Because you don’t ask them subtly enough, kid,” she replied, setting her teacup back down on the desk. “Oh, and I anticipated your hangover; Wendy has a stack of briefs that need editing and a bottle of aspirin, and I reserved one of the quiet rooms in the library for you.”

“How did you know?”

“Spotting day-drinkers is a skill that most people acquire by their thirties. I expect those briefs to be proofed, annotated, and ready for Wendy to deliver to me tomorrow morning after the wake.”

“Thanks, Jessica. And even though I’m sure you’ll be alright…I want you to know that you do have my condolences,” Mike assured, setting down his cup and standing to exit.

“Thank you, Mike. Before you go, is there anything you want to tell me?”

“Huh? Umm, besides the fact that the universal color of mourning is black, not fuchsia?”

“I was already on my way here by the time I got the call,” Jessica explained with an amused half-smile. “Nothing else?”

“Nope. See you Monday, boss,” Mike concluded, a bit worried that she might be on to him and Harvey. Still, there was no way that was possible.

\-----

To: Donna (212)-XXX-XXXX

Sent: 4:12 PM

_Thanks for keeping the idiots away. We’ll have our planning meeting on Saturday morning; you know the place._

 

From: Donna (212)-XXX-XXXX

Received: 4:14 PM

_No problem. Did the puppy spill the beans when pressed?_

 

To: Donna (212)-XXX-XXXX

Sent: 4:17 PM

_No. The little ones sure grow up fast, huh?_

 

From: Donna (212)-XXX-XXXX

Received: 4:20 PM

_Some of them do._

 

From: Donna (212)-XXX-XXXX

Received: 4:21 PM

_That was a dig at Harvey, BTW. I’ll make sure the office doesn’t explode while you’re coping._

\-----

Mike woke early on Saturday (why could he only do that on the weekend?) and headed down to the pool in the basement of Harvey’s building. He’d avoided the place earlier because he didn’t want it to be too big of letdown when he moved back to his apartment, but after Thursday, and more so Friday, he needed a swim to clear his head.

Jessica hadn’t been in and Rachel’s office was still a no-go zone, confirmed when Jeffrey tried to ask for help with a case and nearly took a paperweight to the head. Harvey and Harold had been out trying to get one of Tanner’s witnesses to drop his bogus testimony. Mike hadn’t even seen the older man get home, meaning he’d worked until at least two in the morning. Even lunchtime came and went without much fanfare, as Wendy was busy ferrying documents to their boss and Donna actually had to focus on her work for once.

The blond was mid-way through his twentieth lap when he caught the elevator chime. He decided to ignore it, hoping it wasn’t some unaccompanied minor who would need lifeguarding.

“Board shorts, Mike? No wonder you can’t get a boyfriend.”

“Harvey, how the hell did you know I was down here?” Mike asked when he reached the other side of the pool, still wiping the water from his eyes.

“Elementary, my dear Watson: you took your keys with you but all your Chucks were by the door. You’re not crazy enough to walk around the city barefoot and unlike me you don’t have any pressing business at the office.”

Now that he could see, Mike turned and saw Harvey dipping his toes into the water on the deep end. What really caught his eyes was the swimwear he was rocking – it was mostly black with a white band down the front, and…a bow-tie?

“You’ve got a tuxedo speedo.”

Harvey’s face broke into an enormous smirk as Mike’s scowl sharpened.

“You expected anything less from the best closer this city has ever seen?” the older man asked, working his way into the water.

“It’s a little tacky for you. I was expecting the trunks that Daniel Craig wore, if anything,” Mike scoffed; Harvey propelled a tidal wave his way with a lightning-quick splash on the water.

“This thing is sheer genius, and you’re just bitter because you’re wearing baggy clothes that don’t properly accentuate your assets, babe.”

“So what, you want to race each other or something? After the night you had I expected you’d be in bed for another five hours.”

“I came down here since I haven’t spent any real time with you since Wednesday night, but if you’d rather I didn’t demonstrate my underwater oral proficiency, well…”

“Whoa, whoa there, stud. I’d never turn down a blowjob from you.”

“Then I think you know what you need to do,” Harvey hinted, wagging his eyebrows.

Mike narrowed his eyes as the brunet continued his approach, unwilling to give in without at least some hesitation. “Fine, your tuxedo speedo is genius.”

“Best speedo you’ve ever seen.”

“Really?”

“Yup,” Harvey nodded, grabbing the edge on either side of the blond.

“It’s the best speedo I’ve ever seen,” Mike mimed in monotone.

“You wish you had a speedo as awe-inspiring as this.”

“Can you just blow me already?”

Harvey leaned in and ran his tongue along the curve of Mike’s ear. “I’m remembering comments like those for when I dominate you.”

“Fuck. Alright, I totally wish I had a Harvey-approved tuxedo speedo just like the one you’re wearing.”

“That’s better,” Harvey nodded as he slipped his hands into the water and quickly untied the cord of Mike’s shorts. “Tap my shoulder twice if you hear the elevator approaching. And…”

“And?”

“Tug on my hair – _gently_ – if you want me to increase suction.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Are we really going to do this here? Should we even doing this in the pool?”

“Seeing you freak out at the thought of getting caught really piques my exhibitionist streak,” Harvey laughed as he began descending into the water. “The pool is self-filtering. And I doubt you could dream something as mind-blowing as my underwater head.”

Mike was ready to ask another question when he felt the older man’s warm mouth wrap around his arousal. Throwing his head back in astonished pleasure, he prayed he’d have enough mental fortitude to remember to listen for the lift.

\-----

“Jesus, stud. What’s gotten into you?”

Harvey ignored the younger man’s protestations and continued to nibble on the skin around his collarbone on the elevator ride back up to the condo. Mike had come quickly (Harvey had only needed to surface for air three times) and the older man figured they could squeeze in another round while Marcus finalized his lease this morning.

“Fatigued people shouldn’t be this horny,” Mike moaned as he threw his towel open and exposed more of his bare chest. Harvey leaned in and seized the blond’s nipples between his teeth, forcing a delicious hiss to reverberate against the glass walls. “And why didn’t you tell me…that your private elevator…had a secret button to get to the pool?”

“Did you scare a little kid with your hideous board shorts?” Harvey inquired, pinching the other nipple as he lapped at the first.

“Not a little…little…kid. Goddamn, you’re too good…it was…an old…lady. Fuck, gonna go…insane,” Mike cried.

“I’ll put your brains back in once I’ve fucked them out,” Harvey offered as he twisted both of the erect pink knobs as much as he thought Mike could take.

“Ahhhhhhhh…Oh shit. Harvey, cut that out.”

“Huh?”

“No, seriously, Harvey: stop!”

Harvey looked back up just as the elevator reached the penthouse floor. Waiting in his living room was…fuck. Jessica, Wendy, and Donna were all seated and staring at the two men as the glass door opened.

“We need to talk – all of us,” Jessica commanded. Harvey turned to Donna, who responded with a nearly imperceptible shake of her head.

Shit. There'd be no getting out of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I introduced too many characters in this chapter, but I definitely don't want to have to bring in a ton of them right at the conclusion (Fortinbras [there's one for you, you-know-who-you-are] be damned).
> 
> Also, more Steve! Yay! Minor characters with (a little) depth and (some) personality FTW!


	21. A Vision of Victory

“Fine, ignoring the fact that the three of you broke into my home at 9 AM on a Saturday, let’s go ahead and have a conversation. What are you doing about Cameron Dennis?” Harvey asked, hoping he could regain the initiative after this ambush.

“That’s not how this works, Harvey; you can’t play me with my own moves.”

Harvey gulped. He could feel the stares of his boss cutting into his face and it made each trickle of water down his chest feel like a glacier, cold and excruciating.

“How did you-”

“Don’t interrupt with stupid questions, Mike. Did you two actually believe you could pull one past me?”

“You mean like hiring someone who never went to law school as your associate?”

Jessica raised an eyebrow and leaned back in her…his chair, folding her arms and throwing one of her legs over the knee of the other. “The mock trial.”

“What?”

“I knew once you’d issued your ruling at the end of the mock trial, Harvey. You’ve never had qualms that massive about breaking the rules before, and you’d been his biggest fan while working together on that case against Scottie,” she explained. “That meant that whatever had shoved itself up your ass, it was personal.”

Donna smirked at the mention of Harvey’s ass, and he in turn narrowed his eyes at her – leave it to Donna to picture him and Mike screwing at a time like this. Although, if she wasn’t panicking…was she trying to send him a message?

“Oh don’t get angry with Donna. I didn’t give her the time to warn you. I confiscated her phone on the ride over, too, just to be sure.”

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, Jessica, but this was just a one-time casual fling. Moreover, the fact that you barged into my house and started questioning my personal choices seems like sexual harassment.”

“We all saw you mauling my associate, Harvey, and I know for a fact that you don’t break out that ridiculous speedo for your one-night stands.”

“That’s definitely sexual harassment, or at least creepily invasive.”

“It was fairly easy to spot, even for me on the other side of the building,” Wendy announced, drawing the attention of both of the men. “The way you two interacted on the morning of your very first day – I mean it was obvious that something was going to happen, but this…”

Harvey took a stealthy glance in the direction of the blond; he was clutching his towel tightly around his waist and keeping his eyes trained on the coffee table. The older man could tell he trusted Harvey to get them out of this bind, and that made him feel all the more guilty.

“For what it’s worth, Mike: giving Wendy a PO box as your address probably wasn’t the most subtle way to get out of admitting that you’ve been shacking up with one of the firm’s partners.”

“Jessica, don’t put this on the kid. I was the one-”

“I’m sure you can weave one hell of a yarn, Harvey, but I’m not here to be entertained. And as impressed as I am to see you be valiant, there will be no throwing oneself on any swords today.”

“So…you’re okay with this?” Mike asked, bemused.

“What did I say about stupid questions, Mike? I’m here because we have a lot to discuss, and much as it pains me to say so, this little tryst will have to take a backseat for the moment.”

“Trust me, it won’t be the first time they’ve taken it in the back seat,” Donna muttered snarkily. Wendy’s mouth curled into a smile and she turned her gaze toward the fireplace to disguise it.

“You’ve been stuck on the defensive with Travis Tanner, Harvey. We need to fix that.”

“Jessica, now I’m hurt. You’ve lost faith in me?” Harvey asked, taking some confidence in at the change of topic. “Tanner is no problem at all; I’ve just been busy trying to keep him away from my clients while I wait for him to begin proceedings. I’ll get it dismissed once he’s made his move.”

“And what will happen to your clients once this case is over? Do you think he’ll stop coming after you just because you beat him, Harvey? I don’t. In fact, I’ve got the sneaking suspicion that he’s just as stubborn about grudges as you.”

“…What are you suggesting?”

“While I was at home yesterday, not thinking about all the bullshit that comes into my office every day with an ‘immediate response required’ stamp, I had the chance to think about Darrell,” Jessica started, leaning forward in her seat. “And then I remembered that I hate grieving, so I got to thinking about why Mike and Louis have been doing so well in their case.”

“Did you actually admit that I’m kicking ass?”

“Not the time, Mike. Anyway, I realized that Robert Zane and Dana Scott couldn’t function as well as they had once I’d stepped out of the way and allowed Louis to be himself…mostly. Do you see what I’m getting at, Harvey?”

“That you think Louis is a better lawyer than you?”

“Boy, you better not let me hear you say something like that again,” Jessica warned with an outstretched index finger. “My point is that we’ve all been on our heels because the people who’ve been coming after us know their targets.”

“Please, those two don’t know the first thing about walking in heels,” Donna commented as she got up from her seat and made for the guest bedroom.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I can strut in shoes taller than yours any day of the week!” Mike cried. All eyes turned to him as he blushed with realization for what he’d just confessed.

“Great, now I’ll have the image of my associate in drag stuck in my head for the rest of the day. Y’know, when I joked with Harold that I was going to…never mind” Jessica lamented, shaking her head. “We need to switch places – that’s the best way to clean up all the garbage that’s been gathering around us.”

“I’ve never lost a case, Jessica.”

“Neither have I, Harvey.”

“I’m not going to give Tanner the satisfaction of knowing he chased me off his case,” Harvey continued, though his mind was still on the looming threat of Jessica’s punishment of his relationship with Mike.

“You’ll still have a crucial role to play in his defeat, but the fact is I don’t think you’ll give a damn about that since I’m putting you in charge of taking down Hardman.”

“You don’t want to finish him off yourself?”

“Of course I do, but why settle for a couple singles when I can get a grand slam?” Harvey’s boss asked rhetorically before turning to her assistant. “Wendy, do you remember that story you told me about your sister’s trouble with her payment system?”

“Huh? You mean the time the bank screwed up her digital processing and her expenses got charged to someone else’s account?”

“That’s the one. Let’s just say I figured out a way to get Tanner and Hardman to expose each other, and we’ll need the help of that wizard in IT. Getting his assistance, in turn, will require the aid of your associate, Harvey.”

“Harold? What does he have to do with anyone in the geek department?”

“It’s a long story, boss,” Donna remarked as she rolled a chalkboard into the living room. She’d written the words ‘Tanner’, ‘Hardman’, ‘Dennis’, ‘Zane’, and ‘Scott’ across the top of it and left bullet points underneath. “Well, not so long as it is…endearing.”

“I’ll also need the help of your poker buddy in the FBI, although you’ll want to contact him anyway, ideally before you’ve made your strike on Hardman.”

Harvey’s assistant wrote the words ‘Benjamin’ and ‘FBI’ under Tanner’s name, and then printed ‘Harvey’ and ‘Harold’ below Hardman.

“What about Dennis? I want to be on the team that gets rid of him.”

“Sorry, Harvey, but Mike and I will take on the District Attorney. Neither you nor Donna will have a role-”

“Jessica, he was my boss. The things he did reflect on me, not-”

“I’m not getting you involved with Dennis, and in return I’m not going to ask you to testify against him or volunteer any evidence you might have squirreled away,” the managing partner offered, turning to the redhead. “You can’t have the one without the other, and I know how you feel about ‘betraying’ your old mentor.”

“That’s a dirty way to get me to cave.”

“If that’s what it takes, so be it. Donna?”

“Right,” the assistant replied, scribbling Mike and Jessica’s name below Cameron’s.

“Why are Zane and Scottie up there?” the blond associate asked from beside Harvey. “We’ve got them on the ropes already, and we have a good shot at winning the trial.”

Jessica and Harvey both shook their heads in unison and smiled at each other. Mike was such a green little rookie sometimes.

“The best way to help our clients, Mike, is to lock in a favorable settlement. We shouldn’t rule out the possibility that Zane and Ms. Scott’s move to throw that idiot VP under the bus will work, either, so that means hammering them where it hurts. Rachel has already done her part with her father, so-”

“Wait,” Harvey cut in as he started to predict what was coming, “I don’t feel comfortable with Donna-”

“Too bad, because I’ve been aching to do something like this for a long, long time,” the redhead silenced him as she wrote her name under Scottie’s. She added ‘Louis’ below it after a brief moment of contemplation.

“I really don’t like certain parts of your plan, Jessica,” Harvey declared as he read over the names on the chalkboard.

“There’s one more person we need to address, and I think that part will force your hand.”

“You mean?-”

“Yes,” Donna nodded as she wrote ‘Trevor’ in the unoccupied area at the bottom of the board.

“Wait a minute. I’m not going to let you send Trevor to prison, no matter what he did to me,” Mike cried defensively. At that, Harvey’s protective urges overtook his better judgment and he wrapped an arm around the younger man’s shaking frame.

“Donna told me about a rehab facility upstate, Jessica. We don’t have to send him to the slammer.”

“She told us about that place, too,” Wendy remarked from her seat. “It’s run by her yoga instructor’s sister, and if she’s anything like Jill then Trevor will get cleaned up quickly. But you need to get Trevor to sign a consent form before they can admit him.”

“Right. That’s why I haven’t been able to deal with him yet.”

“And that’s why you’ve got friends like me,” Jessica’s assistant beamed. “Yolanda and I worked up our own little scheme, and with Marcus’ help we should be able to convince Trevor to enroll himself. At the very least you’ll be able to set foot in your own apartment without fearing another assault. Although I’ve got to admit you found a pretty cozy place to stay in Harvey’s condo.”

Both Harvey and Mike blushed at that last bit.

“We _will_ discuss this,” Jessica decreed, wagging her finger between the two men, “immediately after we we’ve finished with all of this,” she continued, pointing at the chalkboard with her other hand. “And if you think you’ll get off easy when we do, you should remind yourself of just who I am.”

“They’ve been getting off easy for far too long,” Donna sniped as she finished writing.

“Yes…well, I think that’s more than enough information to process for now. If you’ll excuse me, I have other errands to take care of this morning.”

“Oh right, because I’m the one imposing on your morning when you’re the one who invaded my condo,” Harvey grumbled as Jessica turned for the door; she didn’t bother to give a response.

“Mike, Harvey – we’re going to move on Trevor today since Marcus is leaving for the village tomorrow. I’ll do my best to see that he gets the help he needs.”

“Thanks, boss lady,” the blond nodded, the concern on his face starting to fade. He went in for a hug, but Wendy pulled back from his damp towel and ruffled his hair instead. “Ugh, I’m going to get a shower.”

“Where did the three of you get a chalkboard?” Harvey asked as the younger man disappeared into the guest bedroom.

“Miss Papadoulos on the seventeenth floor used to be a primary school teacher and kept it after she retired. Don’t you know your neighbors, Harvey?” Donna asked as Wendy left the living room for the master bedroom.

“How do you even know her?”

“I shared an elevator ride with her that night you called me over to talk after You-Know-Who turned you down.”

“I’m never going to be comfortable with how deep into my life you’ve gotten,” Harvey observed. “…What is Wendy doing in my bedroom?”

“Shhh,” Jessica’s assistant hushed him as she returned with Mike’s travesty of a suit and…some kind of stuffed animal. It was pretty dinged up and it wasn’t Harvey’s, so... “Just a little something we’ve got planned for Mike. It’s a surprise, though, so don’t tell him.”

“Really? After everything that’s happened this morning you’re asking me for favors?”

“We’ll need your expense card, too,” Donna added, holding out her hand expectantly.

Harvey locked eyes with his assistant and considered the request before relenting. He trod irritably to his bedroom and retrieved the plastic, giving it to her upon his return.

“Oh, and you’ll need to return the chalkboard by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Wait, you’re not even going to do that for me? You’re the one who brought it up here.”

“Great, thanks. See you Monday, boss,” Donna bid farewell, holding the door open for Wendy. “And seriously, don’t worry about what Jessica is going to do with you and Mike. She’s not heartless, Harvey.”

“Unlike some people,” the brunet retorted as the door shut behind her. Despite her attempt to persuade him otherwise, Harvey could feel another panic attack approaching.

\-----

Mike took his time in the shower, washing away his fright along with the chlorine. Yes, Jessica knew that they were canoodling; they probably were violating countless company anti-fraternization bylaws, too, but the blond felt an odd serenity in his gut at his boss’ decision to bring Wendy and Donna along. If Jessica had really been as pissed as she had tried to act, she would have come alone and she would have made her decision clear immediately.

Instead of sudden judgment, however, Mike and Harvey know stood underneath a Sword of Damocles. Should they continue on as they had in the hopes that their performance in the upcoming battle would earn them a pardon? Or should they put things on hold and hope Jessica lost interest in micro-managing the sex lives of her employees.

Surely Rachel’s habit of bedding the majority of young, male, non-associate Pearson Hardman employees would have come to Jessica’s attention, though he dared not ask her about that when she was still furious from fighting with her father.

“Harvey?” he called out as he shut off the taps and reached for one of the fresh towels he’d grabbed from the adjacent linen closet. “What’s the plan for the rest of the day?”

Mike didn’t hear a response, so he finished drying himself off and tied the towel around his waist, padding quietly into the living room. As he rounded the corner, he finally caught sight of the older man sitting at the kitchen island, still wearing his speedo.

“You really don’t want to take that thing off, do you?” Mike joked. He didn’t get a verbal response, but the strained breath and the shivering of his body informed him that the big guy wasn’t okay. “Harvey, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Harvey repeated, turning to face Mike. “What’s wrong?! Mike, how can you be that dense?”

“Harvey, it’s going to work out.”

“Jessica _knows_ , Mike! What if she forces us apart? What do we do then?”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s always telling Harold or me not to freak out, stud. Harold told me you said something about when there’s a gun to your head…144 options,” Mike tried to console the man; he placed a hand on the brunet’s back, but he pulled away from it.

“It’s 146,” Harvey corrected flatly, in sharp contrast to the heaving of his chest.

“See? You’re on top of this. We’ll be _fine_ ,” Mike stressed, trying to rub the older man’s back and failing again.

“How can you say that, Mike?! You have no idea how Jessica will act, and don’t try to say that just because you’ve worked as her associate for three months that you have a window into her mind.”

At this point Mike was starting to lose his patience, exiting the kitchen and heading for his suitcase to get dressed. The older man didn’t follow him, so he raised his voice as he replied, “I don’t know what’s going to happen, Harvey, but neither do you. And if you were you and I were me right now, this conversation would be flipped and you would be right. There’s no point hyperventilating about stuff we can’t change.”

“I am goddamn hyperventilating, Mike – and with good reason. Why can’t you understand? Don’t you know what all this means to me?”

“Frankly, I don’t know what I mean to you,” Mike clarified, now quite annoyed. “Why don’t you tell me that first and then maybe I can join you in the Freak-Out Olympics.”

“You know what we are,” Harvey huffed, his breathing a bit easier now.

“Wrong,” Mike shouted as he buttoned up his shorts and grabbed a pair of athletic socks. “It’s always so damned hard for you to just say what’s on your mind, and you make me fill in the gaps. Even now, I get that you’re afraid, but I don’t know _why_. Why is Jessica knowing about us so different from everything else?”

“I don’t…don’t know the answer to-”

“Bullshit, Harvey,” he shot down the older man as he hurried over to his shoes hidden away in the front closet (good synecdoche for their…relationship) and pulled out the first matching pair. “You know but for whatever reason you’re just going to act like you don’t.”

“Where are you going, Mike?”

“I’m going cycling. Alone.”

“Wait!”

“Wait for what?” Mike asked, sliding his feet into the Chucks and making for the door. “You to figure out how to not answer my questions about this stuff like you always do?”

“Mike, please. Let me think about how to say this,” Harvey begged, following Mike to the doorway. If Mike hadn’t been so ready to run he might have noticed the oddness of Harvey begging someone for anything.

“No. I need some fresh air,” he muttered, slipping into the hallway. He felt Harvey reach out and touch his arm, and he halted at the gentle contact; he wanted an answer more than he wanted to get away from the other man. “What’s left to say?”

“Mike, please don’t go,” Harvey pleaded this time, pulling him into a tight embrace. “I can’t lose you, Mike. I…care about you. I care about you and I want you and…please,” the older man confessed, his frame shaking around the blond.

Mike felt something wet on the side of his head, and he went through every possibility for what could have caused it: he forgot to wipe that spot enough, the sprinkler system was leaking, someone had left a hose running on the roof…

It wasn’t until he turned his head that he could see that Harvey Specter was crying, and Mike wished he didn’t have to remember this strange and utterly wrong act.

“God, Mike. I’m scared of losing you – for fuck’s sake, there’s no one else on the planet like you. No one that could make me act like this much of a nut, at least.”

“I don’t want to make you cry, Harvey,” Mike objected, still astonished as tears fell down Harvey’s cheeks.

“But you have, you brilliant, idiotic little shit,” Harvey smiled and tightened his coil around the younger man. “It’s a very exclusive club of people who’ve seen my waterworks: my dad, Marcus, Donna, and now you. Congratulations on your membership – it’s conditional on this remaining confidential, by the way,” he added sarcastically, swiping at his lashes.

“Am I at least a gold-level member?” Mike joked.

“Eh, maybe bronze.”

“You fucker…”

“Mike, that was just…I want- no, more than that: I _need_ you in my life, Mike. If that means having to give you a platinum-level membership to the Harvey Specter Lachrymal Society, so be it.”

“Why didn’t you ever say any of that unless I asked, you jerk? Do you know how hard it is to never hear you say that outside of sex?”

“I…didn’t want to jinx it.”

“What?”

“Shit. You have your key, right?” Harvey asked. Mike turned to see that the front door to Harvey’s condo had shut behind them.

“Uhhh…no. I was in such a hurry to get out…do you want me to go down the concierge and grab the spare?”

“No, his copy is yours now. I haven’t gotten around to having another one made for him just yet,” Harvey groaned, rubbing his hand across his forehead. “Fuck, we’ll have to wait for Marcus, then. We’d better sit down – this might take a while.”

Harvey slid down to the floor and Mike followed. They sat side by side against the wall of the hallway, their legs pressed together and the former’s arm slung around the latter.

It took a moment for the brunet to continue where he’d left off earlier, but Mike was more patient now that he knew the older man was making a real effort.

“In my past relationships, whenever I told people how I felt about them…they dumped me not long after. My first time with Scottie, a couple of short-term girlfriends at the DA’s office, and then a partner named Zoe who didn’t allow me more than a single date…all of them. I didn’t want to wreck this relationship by scaring you with my…feelings.”

He recoiled at that last word like just saying it was carcinogenic.

“Harvey, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Seriously? You thought I would leave you if you told me explicitly that you need me or even just that you care for me?”

“It happened with everyone else, Mike,” the brunet repeated remorsefully.

“Stud, listen up, because I’m going to be pissed if you don’t commit this lesson to heart right now,” Mike warned as he turned to make eye contact, “I promise I will never leave you for being honest with me about your feelings. If anything, I will leave you for failing to tell me these things. And for the record?- I really, really don’t want that. I need you and your cleanliness obsession and your high-brow judgmental outlook and your amazing blowjob skills in my life, too, Harvey.”

“…Thanks, Mike.”

“Were you always like this? So closed off, I mean,” Mike asked, hoping he wouldn’t frighten the older man back into his shell.

“Maybe…I don’t know. I’ve been this way for so long that I just…it wasn’t easy after I found out about mom, and then when Scottie dumped me in the final year of law school…”

“Bitch.”

“Hey, watch it.”

“What, have I offended your gentleman’s code?”

“No, but if it weren’t for Scottie doing what she did, we might never have met,” Harvey lectured, poking at Mike’s pathetic bicep.

“Sorry, not sorry. And I don’t believe that we wouldn’t have met anyway, what with you working your way across the city bedroom to bedroom.”

“Are you calling me a whore again?”

“A sexy and smart, if somewhat classist, whore,” Mike cried, sticking out his tongue before turning to face ahead again. “Christ, it feels good to be able to talk about all of this with you.”

“It does. But a fat lot of good all of this does us now that Jessica knows,” Harvey muttered. “See? I jinxed us preemptively.”

“Will you get off that stupid jinx nonsense already, Harvey? You’re smart and I’m smarter-”

“That’s debatable.”

“If we put our heads together then I’m sure we can outmaneuver Jessica. Hey, if an greedy prick like Daniel Hardman could slip one past her then we’re almost guaranteed to come up with something.”

“Disgusting. Did you just compare us to Hardman?”

“Only implicitly.”

“That’s still too close for my liking.”

“Harvey, you’re missing the point.”

“That we’re like Hardman somehow?”

“That we’re going to beat the system. I could trick Louis into changing the bylaws without his knowing, or you could get the partners to vote to veto Jessica’s decision. Those are just the first two ideas that came to me, and we’ve got time.”

“I don’t want to get my hopes up just to lose you in the end, Mike.”

“If it comes down to it, I’ll quit before I let that happen.”

The brunet turned back to Mike and pulled him into his arms again. “Mike, think before you say things like that. Practicing law is your dream – you won’t get a second chance to go back if you do that.”

“It’d still be worth it, stud,” Mike laughed, planting a kiss on the older man’s forehead.

“How did we come so far without even realizing it?”

“Because your head is filled with crazy paranoia about letting people know what else is going on in there? Hey, does this mean we’ve reached the boyfr-”

“Don’t say that word. I hate that word.”

“Is this more crazy bullshit that Scottie put in your head?”

“Mike, I’m thirty-eight years old. I’m supposed to be past the boyfriend stage of my life; at this age you can either be a committed bachelor or a husband, but not a boyfriend.”

“Says who? Have you been reading women’s magazines at the grocery store checkout counter? Did you get 458 tips on how to improve your sex life, too?”

“Asshole.”

“Uh-uh, Harvey. Admit it: you’re my boyfriend. My _boyyyyyfriendddd_.”

“Ewww. Stop saying that word.”

“Nope, cause whether or not you want to admit it, you’re my boyfriend,” Mike taunted. “But no matter what we are, Jessica can’t change us. You got that?”

“I’m fine with the second clause, but I’m going to have to contest the first clause of this dubious contract again. Can you be my wingman instead?”

“Bullshit. And no, you can’t be my wingman, because we’re…wait for it…” Mike paused, peeking around the empty hallway before turning back to Harvey, “boyfriends.”

“I’m never going to use that word.”

“Hah. You won’t make it to the end of the day before you let it slip.

Harvey glared at Mike for a bit before they broke out into a wrestling match in the hallway. Neither one could definitively pin the other, though, so the resulting stalemate lasted for what felt like half an hour at least before the elevator chime warned them to stop.

“Ooh, are you putting on a swimsuit fashion show out here, Har-Har?” Marcus laughed. “Don’t let me interrupt the two of you.”

“Shut up and open the door for us, Markers.”

\-----

“You ready?”

“Sis, why are we wearing these ridiculous afros? We look like some awful, early 70s Blaxsploitation flick.”

“What’s wrong with that? You got a problem with your heritage?” Yolanda sniped from the other seat in the taxi, still adjusting her hairpiece.

“Look, I trust that your plan is going to work, I’m just wondering if we need to go all out like this,” Wendy prodded. “All we need to do is get Trevor from his apartment to Marcus so that he can convince to go with Jill’s sister.”

“Exactly. It’s my plan, so quit complaining and get ready to do what we need to do,” the older sister corrected before turning to the driver. “That’s his building – no, the one with the blue awning over the lobby.”

“This is some bull-”

_“Shut yo’ mouth.”_

Wendy rolled her eyes into the car window as her sister paid the fare. Leave it to Yolanda to turn even a basic fetch quest into some dramatic (more like cinematic) affair involving wigs, bizarre outfits, and movie quotes. Sometimes she wondered if her sister wasn’t the better candidate to marry into the Specter family.

“Ladies, may I help you?” the doorman asked as they approached the apartment complex.

“Look, I’m not going to tell you that we’re federal agents looking for a drug dealer, but I’m also not going to tell you that we’re not federal agents looking for a drug dealer. You catch my drift?”

“Oh…umm, this isn’t exactly something the manager prepared me to address…”

“Do you want to impede what may or may not be a federal investigation?” Yolanda asked again, glaring at the elderly man.

“Please, I don’t want to get in trouble with the law. You can go on in.”

“Thank you, citizen.”

The two women breezed through the lobby and past the concierge who hardly looked up from his newspaper. Wendy made for the elevator but her sister grabbed her arm and pulled here away from it.

“They always take the stairs in the movies, sis. It’s more dramatic that way.”

“If I sweat out my roots running up to the fifth story in this ridiculous wig, you’ll be the one paying for my restoration treatment.”

“Not listening. Hurry up.”

Once they’d reached the right floor, they quietly pushed the door open and made for the hallway. Mike was right when he said Trevor good money selling pot – the place looked like Donald Trump had built it but forgotten to scrawl his name across the side.

“Deep breath, here we go,” Yolanda gave as a final warning once they’d reached the ass’ apartment. “Delivery for one Trevor Evans.”

No response.

“Oh for- Mr. Evans, we have a delivery for you!”

“Hold on, hold on,” a voice from the inside called. Footsteps made their way toward the two women and eventually a scrawny guy in his boxers with cuts and bruises across much of his exposed skin opened the door. “Where’s my delivery?”

“Right here,” Yolanda cried as she grabbed Trevor by the ear and pushed her way into the apartment.

“Ow! What the hell is this? Look, I’m going to pay you guys as soon as I get some more cash from-”

“We’re not here to collect your money, you dumbass.”

“What the- why are you here?” Trevor asked as he freed himself from the older sister’s grasp and fled behind the leather couch.

“Sis, it’s your line.”

“Do I really have to say it?” Wendy pleaded; she was already embarrassed and she hadn’t even uttered the quote she’d tepidly agreed to earlier.

“Yes.”

“Ugh, fine. _This is the end of your rotten life, you motherfuckin’ dope pusher_.”

“Holy shit! I don’t even deal dope, okay?! I just sell pot and Adderall to university students – that’s all, I swear!”

“You beat up a friend of my sister’s. He was your friend, too, you traitorous fuck!” Yolanda shouted as she rounded the furniture. Trevor tried to defend himself with one of the pillows, but his muscles seemed pretty atrophied from his own drug use. Wendy guessed that neither he nor Mike had been all that strong to begin with, though. “You think we’re bad? Just wait until one of the suppliers you owe big stops by and breaks something you’ll really miss.”

“What do you want, then? Money? Drugs?”

“We want you to come with us so we can get you some help, because a guy named Mike Ross who you punched out still has some faith in you and he doesn’t want you to end dead in a dumpster,” Wendy answered as her sister stood triumphant over the sobbing little man.

“Mike sent you? How does he even know you?”

“That’s not important. Go put some damn pants on so we can get you over to see the doctor.”

“Doctor?”

“Pants…now. What the hell kind of useless man isn’t dressed at two in the afternoon?”

Trevor flicked his attention back between the two women before he pried himself off the couch and ran to the bedroom. They kept an eye on him to make sure he didn’t try to barricade himself in there or flee down the fire escape, and once he’d gotten decent they rushed him out of the apartment and into the elevator.

“Just don’t kill me, okay?”

“Don’t worry. Mike would be very upset with us if we did that,” Wendy informed him, hoping they weren’t going to frighten him into running out into traffic.

“Did Mike become a made man or something?”

“We’re not Cosa Nostra, idiot,” Yolanda corrected, shaking her head at the sight of the scrawny little guy huddled in the corner. “I hope you can walk five blocks.”

“Umm, yeah, I guess. Where are we going?”

“I told you. We’re taking you to see the doctor.”

The doors of the lift opened back to the lobby and the two women pushed Trevor through it to the main entrance. The doorman saluted them as they walked outside (Yolanda could sell her part, at least) and they made their way south from there.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I did to Mike.”

“You’d better be.”

“I just, he was supposed to make a deal for me and then he dumped the pot back at my place and I had angry customers and I was late to make a payment.”

“And while you were selling crap to kids Mike has been trying to make something of himself, so you can take all that self-pity and shove it where the sun don’t shine for all I care,” Yolanda scoffed.

Wendy was more occupied looking around to make sure no other pedestrians were too taken aback at the sight of her and her sister pushing a guy they hardly knew down the sidewalk.

Thankfully, they were all being stereotypical New Yorkers and avoiding eye contact.

“I’ve had it rougher than anyone. After all, Mike has all the brains – what do I have?”

“A loud mouth. Keep walking.”

“I miss hanging out with him. Other than that day, I haven’t seen him for months. He’s my best friend…”

“Friends don’t punch friends so hard they leave bruises all over their faces. Maybe you should be glad he didn’t call the police on you like I would have.”

“Donna says it’s one of the buildings on this street. Look for something that says Nick’s Boxing.”

“Boxing?! I thought you said we were going to see a doctor!”

“We are, but we’re meeting him here.”

“Shit, you really are going to kill me, aren’t you?”

“Shut. Up. We’re getting you help, but if you try something funny then so help me I will drag you in there.”

Trevor eyed them nervously but made his way into the gym. Marcus was waiting at the counter beside the guy Wendy assumed was Nick. There were also two extremely fit blondes sitting in the waiting area, but aside from them and a few dedicated souls lifting weights, the place was mostly empty.

“He’s Trevor?” Marcus asked skeptically, probably wondering (like Wendy) how he could have caused as much damage as he had.

“Y-yup. Are you the doctor?”

“I am,” he answered, taking a step closer to inspect some of Trevor’s bruises. “How often are you using?”

“Huh?”

“I’m a doctor, idiot. I can tell you’re injecting heroin, so just tell me how often you’re using and when you started.”

“…A couple months ago. I only do it once a week when they make me during our meetings.”

“In that case, it doesn’t look too terrible, considering; good. Here, take these,” the younger Specter instructed, handing him a pair of boxing gloves.

“What-”

“Megan here runs a rehab clinic upstate, and Mike and the rest of us want you to go there and get cleaned up, but we need your consent for that. We also need you to sign off on us selling off all your ridiculous expensive shit to pay your debts and rent down here while you’re gone, so we’re going to make a little wager.”

“What kind of wager?”

“Simple, if I knock you off your feet in the boxing ring, you agree to do everything I just said. If you knock me off my feet, you can go back to your apartment and pretend none of this ever happened, and you’ll have to deal with your dealers by yourself.”

Trevor looked Marcus over and gulped loud enough for everyone to hear. Still, he put the gloves on and made his way over the main ring. Marcus donned his own gloves and followed, hopping through the cords and taking a few practice swings through the air.

“Alright, this is an instant victory match,” Nick called as he made his way up to referee the match. “Don’t worry, kid, I know CPR in case he conks you out.”

“C…CPR?” Trevor asked nervously. “Holy shit.”

“Don’t worry, as long as your head doesn’t hit one of the posts none of the damage should be permanent,” Yolanda added, causing the fear on Trevor’s face to magnify a few times over.

“But if it does,” Wendy continued, dragging a finger across her throat, “schlurrrrrrrp.”

“Shit, dude, I don’t wanna die. I give; I’ll go to rehab or whatever, just let me outta this ring and don’t kill me!” Trevor shouted, throwing off his gloves.

“I’ll need you to sign some forms and agree to have Harvey Specter become the overseer of your estate while you’re getting cleaned up,” Megan requested as though she knew the plan was going to succeed the whole time.

“Okay, you guys win. Just give me a pen and I’ll do it.”

He hurried back to the entrance with Nick, Jill, and Megan in tow and started signing away his freedom for the next few months. Wendy turned to the blond still standing in the ring and rolled her eyes. “And what were you going to do if he didn’t cave – break your Hippocratic oath?”

“I don’t think I would’ve needed to hit very hard to tip him over,” the blond grinned back, leaning over the edge to kiss her. “Anyone want to have a go anyway?”

“You’re supposed to be taking us out for dim sum, blondie,” Yolanda laughed. “Or do you want me to become the sister-in-law from hell?”

“We’re not officially engaged,” Wendy warned as Marcus worked his way back to the main floor.

“Not yet,” Marcus grinned. “Fine, dim sum it is.”

The three of them hopped in another taxi in time to catch sight of the truck ferrying Megan, Trevor, and two of her employees off to the rehab facility. Marcus had the cheek to wave to him; Wendy hoped he wouldn’t hold a grudge against them for pulling one over on him.

\-----

“The first stage of the plan is complete, rookie. Now will you tell me what we’re doing in Brooklyn when we could be having make-up sex?”

“They got Trevor to agree to go into rehab?”

“Yes."

"Thank God," Mike sighed happily. Harvey still couldn't fathom why the blond gave a damn about that asshole, but he wasn't so heartless as to wish death on someone, even if that someone hurt Mike. He would, however, take great joy in selling all of that asshole's crap to pay his debts.

"Don’t dodge my earlier question,” Harvey pivoted, following Mike down the street. There was still some trash along the street and everyone looked like some cross of hippy and Hun – yes, they were definitely in Brooklyn all right.

“I need to get something to ensure that Benjamin will help us with Tanner and Hardman. Besides, I think we need to incentivize ourselves to stand up to Jessica.”

“Incentive? What could I possibly want that would be in Brooklyn?”

Mike turned and narrowed his eyes at the older man. “If you’re going to be my boyfriend, you need to stop harping on about how terrible my home borough is.”

“I don’t agree with any part of that statement.”

“Regardless, I want to introduce you to _my_ Rene.”

“You mean you’ve had a tailor stitch those wretched clothes you wear when we’re not at the office? I thought you just found them in the gutter.”

“Cram it, stud. Oh, and welcome to Adrijan’s shop,” Mike commented as he threw open a door for the older man.

Harvey stepped into the large building and immediately realized that he was in some kind of sex store. The front area was fairly tame, but above him hung a sign with the directory:

  *        Dildos, Vibrators & Cockrings <
  *        Lubricants & Other Oils ^
  *        Restraints & Punishment ^
  *        Multimedia >
  *        Tailoring >



“Mike, just what kind of gift are you getting for the guy in IT? Remember, he’s our co-worker, not our dungeon master.”

“I’ve got that, Harvey. Listen, you just look around and pick out something you want to get while I go talk with Adrijan. Meet me over at the fitting section in ten minutes.” With that, the blond disappeared behind a rack of leather bras, leaving Harvey to wander the store alone.

Harvey really had no clue what he wanted to get, so he started into the dildos. They had every shape, color, and size you could think of and then some, including a butt plug so enormous Harvey winced when he caught sight of it. He also saw duplicates of some of the vibrators his brother had prank-gifted him over the years.

Finding nothing there, he meandered into the area with massage oil and contemplated buying a fresh vial of the stuff. It seemed fairly mundane, though, and he wasn’t about to waste his trip to Brooklyn purchasing a dispenser of edible lube, either. He did get a few chuckles when his eyes landed on the jars of ‘fisting cream’ on the top shelves, but he’d never been into that much penetration.

Eventually he reached the BDSM section, and it was there that his excitement started to build. This place really did have everything, from custom-made cat o’ nine tails to candles with moisturizing wax to excruciating looking cock cages. Harvey’s own member stiffened as he pictured using the various instruments on Mike, especially the electric nipple clamps.

“Need any help, sir?”

“Hmm?” Harvey asked, turning to a woman in a biker outfit. “I need some restraints that won’t leave marks. My…associate and I work in a fairly conservative field and I don’t want our clients to get distracted during meetings.”

“You’re not the first person with that problem,” she assured with a smile. “Our velvet ties are over there. We’ve got wide cords and thicker rope that are much gentler around the wrist and ankle areas.”

“Excellent,” Harvey nodded as she left him alone to peruse them.

God, he was going to love tying Mike up and making him beg for sex. Maybe Brooklyn wasn’t so bad after all.

Once he’d made his choice, Harvey started back toward the clothing. He did stop briefly to admire a couple of slings hanging from the ceiling, but he opted to leave that idea for the next time they stopped in this store. No use spoiling the brat, right?

“You were able to find something?” Mike asked as Harvey neared the fitting rooms.

“Eventually,” Harvey commented with feigned disapproval, holding out the velvet ropes for inspection. “What are we doing over here?”

“First of all, you need to try these on,” the blond ordered, holding out briefs made of black lace.

“You expect me to wear this for foreplay? It's a little girly, Mike.”

“I expect you to wear it when you’re kicking Hardman out of the firm.” Before Harvey could voice his refusal, Mike quirked an eyebrow. “I’m getting a new jockstrap, but only if you agree to this.”

“Ovo je Harvey?” a man asked as he walked out from a stack of leather strips. “On je veoma zgodan.”

“Trebalo bi da vidite njegov stomak,” Mike grinned as he fistbumped the man. “Harvey, meet Adrijan, AKA my Rene.”

“Mike is holding you up to some very tough competition,” the brunet warned as he gave the man a firm handshake.

“I’m not just a tailor, but I’ll be sure to do my best work when I’m designing your gear. Mike warned me that you have extremely high standards.”

“My gear?” Harvey asked, turning to a beaming Mike. “Just what is he talking about?”

“I’m getting him to make you assless chaps. Admit it, you’ve totally wanted a pair your whole life, right?”

Harvey’s cock jumped up and strained harder against his underwear.

“Normally, I’d be the one taking the measurements, but given the circumstances…I think I’ll let Mike take that role,” the tailor suggested, passing him the tape and showing him to one of the empty changing rooms. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes to take down the numbers and ring you up for your other purchases.”

Mike grabbed Harvey by the arm and pulled him inside the changing booth, locking the door behind them. “Inseam’s first; ditch your clothes.”

“Mike, what did he mean when he said he wasn’t just a tailor? And what language were the two of you speaking before?” Harvey asked as he shucked off his shirt and started work on his fly.

“Adrijan’s Serbian. I picked up the language while I was learning…other things from him.”

“What other things, exactly?”

“Adrijan’s the one who helped me find my way in the BDSM scene, and trust me when I say that what you’ve experienced is the tip of the iceberg of what he taught me,” Mike smirked filthily as he pulled off Harvey’s shoes. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

“I’ll still get to teach you plenty. And the gift for Benjamin?”

“Adrijan’s number. He’s into the geeky type, obviously.”

“Clearly,” Harvey agreed as he shed the last bit of fabric covering his naked form. “I’m not going to fit into those briefs with an erection; I hope Adrijan doesn’t have a problem with you sucking me off in here.”

“It’s a sex shop, Harvey,” Mike reminded as he removed his own t-shirt and kneeled between the older man’s legs. “I don’t think we’re the first people to do something like this in here.”

“You’re a kinky little genius, babe,” Harvey observed as the other man opened his mouth.

“Just wait until you’ve seen me in my new jockstrap, stud,” Mike laughed as he blew hot breath over Harvey’s arousal.

“Fine, you win. If you can make me multiple-orgasm before Adrijan gets back, I’ll call you my boyfriend.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Harvey was going to add that Rene was still the better tailor as far as he was concerned, but once Mike swallowed his glans speech became impossible. Instead he contented himself with grabbing a fistful of Mike’s blond locks and pulling him down further, not caring if someone outside the booth heard him moan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I didn't disappoint everyone who was eagerly expecting the big showdown this week. There are still quite a few battles left to fight first.


	22. Got Your Back

“Good morning, Harvey.”

“Morning, Ray,” the senior partner greeted as he clicked his seatbelt into place. “Did Donna already give you-”

“We’re making a stop at the DOJ before I take you over to Pearson Hardman. Yup, she rang me up this morning and let me know after reminding me that my daughter needed me to take her science project to the school.”

“Volcano?”

“Potato clock, but there was a display board; baking soda volcanoes were last year in kindergarten,” Ray grinned from the driver’s seat before looking around expectantly. “What music selection do we have for ambience today?”

“I’ll give it to you on the way back from the federal office – I need to make a phone call first.”

The driver shot his boss a puppy dog face before returning his attention to finding a gap to pull away from the curb. “It must be important if you’re willing to forego your tracks. Do you want me to put the divider up?”

“No. I have a feeling the guy on the other end won’t be alone, either,” Harvey explained as he scrolled through his contacts.

“Peter’s phone. Who may I ask is calling?”

“Neal?” Harvey asked, satisfied with his instincts. He mouthed ‘see what I told you?’ to his driver.

“Harvey? It’s a little early in the morning to be scheduling the next poker game, isn’t it?”

“Just put Peter on, would you?”

“I didn’t hear a ‘please’ anywhere in there, mister.”

“Please.”

“Much better. You shouldn’t forget your manners when you’re speaking to a bigwig at the FBI,” the other man sing-songed. “Here he is.”

There was a slight commotion from the other end and Harvey checked his phone to make sure it wasn’t acting up again.

“I do not wear a wig!” he heard a raspier voice cry defiantly.

“It’s just an expression, Peter. But I guess I should be more careful, since I know how worried you are about getting a receding hairline.”

“Shush!” the other voice ordered. “Peter here. Y’know, Harvey, we don’t all operate on the ridiculous schedule you corporate lawyers do. Some of us have _office hours_ , remember?”

“I could ask why Neal answered your phone at 6:30 in the morning on a Monday, Peter. I do hope I didn’t interrupt anything _important_?” Harvey suggested in a low drawl.

“Touché. Can I help you somehow?”

“As a matter of fact, I would like to help you.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” the investigator reasoned, the sound of sheets rustling in the background. “Exactly how do you plan to help me?”

“I’d like to serve some stooges up to you on a silver platter.”

“What have they done? I shouldn’t need to remind you that the FBI can’t get involved unless they’ve committed a pretty major offense.”

“Bribery.”

“Harvey, the FBI is not going to waste its time on some petty bribery matter unless the amount is-”

“Bribery, Peter,” Harvey interjected with a tone of confidence, “that will most likely lead you to discovering multiple counts of obstruction of justice and perjury, if not even worse crimes.”

“Just who are these stooges?”

“I can’t get into that right now, but I’ll fill in the holes once they’ve walked themselves all the way into the corner. Now are you going to help me or not?”

“You were right about the Locke case…is DOJ on board with this? I’m not going to make a move unless I know it will lead to something.”

“They will be once I have a chat with an old friend of mine.”

“Alright, fine, you’ll get my department’s manpower once I see some concrete evidence to substantiate your claims,” the federal investigator assured as the rustling noise grew louder. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to filling in a hole right here.”

“Ugh, you never were very good at innuendo, Peter.”

“Shut up, _Reginald_.”

“Bye, Harvey!” Neal shouted before his handler could hang up the phone.

The senior partner always knew Peter’s obsession with the suave thief was more than just professional diligence.

“Almost there, boss,” Ray informed as he rounded the corner just a few blocks from the US Attorney’s office. “Oh, and Donna texted me while you were on the phone to tell you that the dimple in your tie is too far to the right. Don’t worry – I read it when I stopped at that last intersection.”

“Huh?” the brunet asked, looking down to inspect the silk material beneath him; sure enough, it was lopsided. “While I’m running my errand, tell Donna that she needs to turn off her ESP while she’s not at her desk.”

“I can try,” the driver shrugged. “Oh, and there’s a blond hair on the right shoulder of your jacket – I caught that on my own, by the way.”

“What observant colleagues I have,” Harvey muttered, carefully extracting Mike’s stray follicle from its woolen environs. “All gone?”

“Mhmm. Okay, I’m going to drop you off here; I’ll drive back up to Reade so the cops don’t think I’m a terrorist scouting out the building or something.”

“Goddamn racial profiling,” Harvey acknowledged, opening the door. He nodded Ray away once he’d shut it again.

The senior partner made his way past the line of lawyers forming outside the Quiznos next door and into the intentionally nondescript building. After a brief stop at security (they knew him by name now) he strolled down to the elevators.

Luckily the lady in question was waiting for the lift as well.

“Becky, fancy meeting you here.”

“Skip the lame jokes, Harvey,” the somewhat peeved prosecutor warned, quickly shutting the case file she’d been reading. “Why are you in our offices today?- I didn’t call you down here with a deal.”

“No, you didn’t, so I thought I’d bring one by to spice things up a little. Oh, and my jokes – killer.”

“Careful using that word in here. Now, you have a deal for me?” the woman asked carefully. “What game are you playing, Harvey?”

The senior partner nodded in the direction of the opening elevator doors, and the two of them made their way inside. “No, Russell,” Becky warned an approaching junior prosecutor trying to slip in beside them as the doors closed. “Okay, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Harvey pressed the emergency stop button once they’d reached the third floor.

“You know you screw up the alignment when you do that too often, don’t you?” she huffed irritably.

“You gonna sue me?” Harvey fired back with a smug grin. “Look, I know you and the rest of your division been investigating my old boss.”

“Are you saying that you’re willing to provide testimony that would aid a potential indictment of Cameron Dennis?”

“No. You know how I feel about the importance of loyalty.”

“So then what are we doing here?”

“I’m not going to dredge up idle speculation and casual observations I made years and years ago while I was working as an ADA, but I’m not going to defend what he might do now that I don’t stand with him in the trenches.”

“So now that he’s sniffing around your office, it’s suddenly become convenient for you to assist our investigation?” Becky accused, tapping her pump against the floor of the lift.

“I’m not going to pretend that Kyle Durant should get off scot-free for what he did, which was damn stupid, by the way. That said, the kid deserves a censure and maybe a fine, but not jail time or disbarment.”

“What’s your reasoning?”

“He’s a rookie, Becky. He’d invade China if a partner told him to do it, just like that kid you told to scram just now,” Harvey judged. “Are you saying you would have had the balls to tell the US Attorney that you weren’t going to do what he told you when you were a first-year here?”

“My existence wasn’t known by the senior leadership until he resigned and someone else got appointed,” Becky admitted glumly. “So what are you prepared to give me?”

“If this all goes according to plan, the FBI will be giving you an airtight case to bring down him and a couple of dirty civil counsels. I just need you to let my friend over there know that you’ll see this through once it’s on your plate.”

“When have I ever backed away from shooting fish in a barrel? Hell, when was the last time I gave one of your clients a total pass even though I knew it would be a tough case?”

“Good,” Harvey approved, pressing the button to restart the elevator’s climb.

“And just when should I expect to find this case on my plate?”

“It shouldn’t take very long at all – you know from me that people don’t change, and an idiot who’s surrounded by sycophants won’t know he’s stumbling into a trap until it’s far too late.”

“While you’re here-”

“Yes?”

“Tell Jessica that she needs to stop running over her time into my hair appointments with Pierre. It’s not easy for a sister to book them when I’ve got rookies to oversee and defense attorneys asking me for favors all the time.”

“Are you going to give me a tourniquet to use when she rips my arm off for saying that?” he asked as the lift dinged its arrival at the seventh floor. “That’s one thing I’ve learned, if nothing else: never come between a Black woman and her hair.”

“You’re not a total dunce,” Becky grinned as she started for her office.

\-----

“Harold, can I ask a favor of you?”

“Sure, Mike. What’s up?” Harold inquired as he carefully set down his manatee-themed legal pad. (Mike would need to teach him the difference between aquatic life forms someday soon.)

“I’m supposed to give this new laptop to Benjamin in IT, but I don’t know where his office is down there, and trying to figure it out while I’m hefting it about doesn’t seem practical. Donna said that maybe you’d be able to help me?”

“He’s going to be so excited,” the other man assured as he examined the box Mike was holding. “Yeah, I can introduce him to you right now since Harvey hasn’t come in yet.”

“Sweet!” Mike cried, earning hateful stares from Devon and Jeffrey who were busily cranking something out for Louis.

“Benjamin and I have hung out a bunch in the past few weeks. He’s a really nice guy once you get to know him,” Harold explained as they walked to the stairs. “Just be careful not to call him ‘Ben’ – he prefers his full name.”

“Gotcha. Anything else I should know?”

“Oh, I’m finally going to get that shark tattoo I told you about way back when.”

“I meant about Benjamin,” Mike shook his head as he carefully descended the flight of stairs. “Wait, which parlor did you go to get your estimate? The one in Williamsburg that I recommended?”

“No, there’s this guy in NoLIta who’s willing to do it for half the price and I won’t have to take the train back home.”

“Harold, I really think you should listen to me on this. Some of those guys will screw up your tat on purpose just so you have to go back in there and pay them to fix it.”

“Mike, if you can’t trust a guy who works in a tattoo parlor, who can you trust?” Harold asked as he held the door open for him.

Mike really hoped he was joking.

“So this is IT? Man, it’s like the Millenium Falcon and the Starship Enterprise had a baby and this is the blow-up projection of its inner workings,” Mike gawked as he stared at the rows of servers.

“Both of those ships were female, numbnut – they couldn’t have had a baby together.”

Mike and Harold turned to see the slender, black-haired man they were searching for standing next to one of the tall black boxes. He was busily scribbling down information displayed on a clipboard.

“Shouldn’t you be entering that data digitally on an iPad or something?” Mike asked as he set his lure down on a nearby cart.

“Data that’s stored digitally is a pain to destroy, whereas pieces of paper on this clipboard can be shredded in a matter of seconds. Besides, the interface of the iPad stinks, and I don’t want to have to carry around a keyboard with me because that defeats the very purpose of tablet computing,” the techie defended himself. “Hey, Harold. How’s it going?”

“Great! Actually, I’m here because Mike is supposed to give you something and he didn’t know where your office is.”

“The wunderkind couldn’t figure out how to open the map I put on the IT section of the Pearson Hardman website?”

“He doesn’t even bother to read the company emails, Benjamin,” Harold remarked disdainfully.

“Setting that aside,” Mike interrupted, “here: this should be manna from heaven for you.”

“Is that…the XHP7600?” he asked as he pointed at the box on the cart, his mouth watering. “That’s only been released in Seoul and Hong Kong. How on earth-“

“Jessica wants to thank you for all the hard work you’ve done…and I might have a favor to ask of you.”

Benjamin snatched his hands back from the packaging as soon as he heard the second part of that sentence; he narrowed his eyes and silently demanded further explanation.

“I just got a text from Harvey,” Harold cut in, examining his phone. “He needs me in his office, so I’ll let the two of you work out whatever’s going on, okay?”

“See you for kickball tomorrow night?” Benjamin asked, smiling when he received a nod in response. “Alright, he’s gone – will you tell me what this favor is?”

“I need you to trick someone into believing that he’s been swindled.”

“You do? Or Jessica?”

“Dude, officially: I’m asking, but it’s for Pearson Hardman’s sake. Got it?”

“Don't call me ‘dude’,” Benjamin corrected as pushed the cart past a bullpen of busy techies wearing headphones. “Just how would I trick this someone into believing he’s been played?”

“I was thinking that you would mess around a little with the routing between his charges and his checking account.”

“That sounds questionable at best and illegal at worst.”

“But not impossible?” Mike drove as he took a seat on the seat beside Benjamin’s desk as the other man shut the glass door.

“Puh-lease. Everybody knows that banks have wretched online security and rely on hucksters peddling years-out-of-date software. Even Steve down in the lobby could probably steal someone’s personal information.”

“So you could do it? Redirect his charges to an empty dummy account so that he’d think he’d been robbed? I wouldn’t even have you touch any of his money.”

“Probably, but-”

“We already booked you a room at the Waldorf so that you can use one of the computers in their reception area and he won’t be able to track the IP address back to you.”

“All I get for my troubles is this computer?” Benjamin asked as his fingers clattered away at the keyboard of his customized desktop. “Still seems like I’m getting screwed.”

“Funny you should say that,” Mike commented as he dropped his voice. “Y’know, Harold’s told me some stuff about you.”

“You’re blackmailing me?”

“No. Are you aware of a certain man named Adrijan Sadovic?”

Benjamin stopped typing and stared across the desk at Mike, his eyes a mixture of shock and distrust. He stood and paced his way across the room to a stack of antique microchips resting in a fruit bowl.

“If I do this for you, you’ll get me an invite to one of the instructional sessions at his store?”

“If you do this, I’ll text you his number. I told him that there’s a tech expert at my office who’s into BDSM and leather, and he wants to go out on a date with you.”

“How do you even know him?”

“Let’s just say you’re not the only freaky ‘mo in the office, okay?”

“You’re not lying about this, are you?”

“What’s wrong, Benny-boy? Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s Benjamin.”

“Ooh, are you going to punish me for that?” Mike laughed before leaning in closer, “but you definitely strike me as the submissive type. That’s why you overcompensate with all the annoyance and irritability here at the office, right?”

“Shut up,” Benjamin shot back, but he didn’t look too upset.

“So you’ll do it?”

“Piece of cake,” the techie scoffed as he grabbed for his coat. “I assume that I can begin today?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Mike nodded as the other man hurried for the door, already having forgotten the brand new computer still on the cart by his desk. “Oh, and for what it’s worth, the Millenium Falcon and the Starship Enterprise could have used the Serenity as a sperm donor.”

“…You’re not nearly as bad as the other associates make you out to be, Mike.”

“Fist bump?” the blond asked, throwing his hand up in the air.

“Okay, maybe what Kyle said about you is partially correct,” the black-haired man sighed as he dodged the outstretched limb and made for the elevators.

“Who’s the one who plays kickball?” Mike asked from the doorway of the other man’s office. He looked around for agreement, but all of the other techies were still unaware of his presence in their midst.

\-----

Donna watched the other name partner waddle down the hallway toward her boss’ office with a mixture of amusement and disgust. She was almost certain the man didn’t wash his hair more than once a week and his expectation of victory in the upcoming managing partner election had manifested itself as an obscenely vulgar sneer.

There wasn’t enough Febreeze in the world at times like this.

“Harvey Specter. To what do I owe the honor of being invited to your office on a Monday morning? We could have met in my office – it is larger, after all.”

“Hardman, I’m afraid I have some bad news for you,” Harvey informed him, ignoring the implicit insult laden in that last ‘offer’. “Cameron Dennis has requested all the financial information of Pearson Hardman for the past eight years.”

“…What?”

“Now I tried to convince Jessica to resist for as long as she could – malicious prosecution, burdensome prosecution, a fire in the file room, anything – but she had the paralegals come in yesterday and make copies of all the forms. She’s delivering them to the DA’s office as we speak.”

“You – you goddamn, lowdown dirty rats! Did you forget the nondisclosure agreement upon which my temporary departure was contingent?!”

The nasty little troll doll was practically stampeding between the couch and the chairs.

“The statute of limitations on your embezzlement has lapsed, Daniel. Even when he finds it he won’t be able to prosecute you.”

“This is about the reputation of the firm. You and Jessica both know that I will be elected managing partner and you’re trying to sabotage the company I built out of pure spite.”

“We’re the spiteful ones?” Harvey asked as he rose from his seat. “Daniel, you very nearly sabotaged this firm when you used our assets to finance your little tryst with Monica Eton. And frankly, Jessica was way more generous with you than I ever would have been; we even continued to pay you your share of the firm’s profits while you were gone. Now you’ve come back…what, so you can squeeze a little bit more from the toothpaste?”

“I have bills to pay. Do you have any idea how hard it was to make ends meet while my wife was in the hospital?”

“Bullshit. The company paid for her medical bills. Wait, that’s right – we never cancelled your health insurance policy, even though we damn well had grounds to do so. Do you know why Jessica made that decision?” Harvey demanded as drew closer to the much shorter man. “It’s because we’re not snakes in the grass.”

“Hah. The man who claims he won’t stab me in the back even as his accomplice hands the dagger to the DA. Well I’m not going to let the two of you screw me over again.”

“Mr. Specter, I got your text. What did you need?”

Harold, right on time, and Louis was already popping out of his office courtesy of Norma. All Donna needed was some popcorn.

“Out of my way!” Hardman shouted as he tried to get past the curly-haired blond. Little did he know that getting angry was the worst way to achieve with results with the ferret.

“Harold, I need to know if you had any luck with that one artist we were trying to flip to our side.”

“Am I supposed to come in or get out?” Harold asked, frustrated as tried to allow the name partner to pass through the doorway but continued to mirror his movements.

“Harvey, Daniel, what’s going on here? Is there anything that I can do for either of you?” Louis asked as he tried to push past Harold from the other side.

“Harold, time is money. Get in here and tell me how the case is going.”

“Good God, did Jessica hire no one but klutzes and dunces in my absence?!” Hardman growled as he failed yet again to switch sides without the blond unintentionally blocking him.

“I’m very sorry, sir,” Harold assured as he tried to squeeze past.

“Harold, you know I don’t want you to call me ‘sir’,” Harvey warned from the edge of his desk. He gave a stealthy wink to Donna as the three men continued to struggle in the doorway.

“I don’t give a damn what you call each other, just _let_. _me_. _through_ ,” Hardman screamed.

“Harvey, Jessica asked me to drop a couple of forms off with you while she’s out,” Wendy called as she approached Harvey’s corner office.

Donna hadn’t even planned for her arrival.

“I need to speak to Harvey first!” Louis cried as he blocked the gap Hardman had finally made on Harold’s right side.

“Harold, hurry it up already, would you?”

“I’m trying, Mr. Specter!”

“For crying out loud, my life is not a farce!” Hardman yelled, shoving his way past Harold and barreled over Louis. He really should have been more careful, as the contents of Harold’s breakfast burrito ended up smeared across his face and suit.

“I’m so sorry, sir-”

“Harold, what did I tell you about that word?”

“I’ll wipe it off right away so a stain doesn’t set.”

“Oh no, let me do that,” Louis offered, retrieving a handkerchief from his pocket with one hand while he slapped Harold’s napkin away with the other.

“You should wait there, Mr. Hardman. I’ll go run and get a janitor who’ll know how to get that egg out of your tie.”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Hardman roared, forcing his way past the trio trying to dab away the bits of ground beef and lettuce on his jacket. He opted not to wait this time, it seemed, as he ran growling and disheveled past a small crowd of senior partners on his way to the elevator.

“Mr. Specter, I’m happy to say that I got that witness to agree not to testify on behalf of Tanner. I even-”

“Alright then, rookie. Get over to the file room and see if you can find a loophole that will allow my 3PM client to get out of his contract.”

“But-”

“Tick, tock, Harold. Don’t waste the firm’s time standing around in here.”

“R-right, Mr. Specter.”

“What the hell was all of that about?” Louis asked, turning to Donna.

She made a point of ignoring him as Wendy handed her the files (provisional invites to the company’s Autumn associate initiation bash).

“Seriously, what just happened here?”

“Carol’s going to beat your billables if you don’t get back to work,” Donna finally threatened the perplexed junior partner. “And you know how she likes to gloat, too.”

That sent him galloping back to his office.

“Do you think it worked?” the redhead asked through the intercom as she dialed the number of one of the day janitors.

“Depends on how well Jessica can play her part, but I don’t think we need to worry too much on that front. At the very least, Cameron will think that Hardman’s hiding something, even if he does realize that there’s nothing of value in those ‘financial statements’.”

\-----

“Jessica, I’ve got to say, it’s not very often that the subject of an investigation makes a visit to my office without so much as an invitation.”

“Well, Cameron, it seems your crack team of record combers neglected to take all of the information they were granted in the subpoena regarding the actions of Mr. Durant.”

“And you, out of the kindness of your heart, thought to bring them over here yourself?” the district attorney asked, the skepticism dripping from his hunched eyebrows.

“I didn't want you to have any grounds to come after me later for withholding evidence from your investigation. And I came here myself because I don’t trust one of my employees not to say something stupid in the process of delivering them,” the managing partner guarded as she sat down across from him. “To let a rookie associate cause havoc a second time would seem like carelessness.”

“Is that a reference to something? Literature was never my strong point.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Will that be all, or would you like to confess to something while you’re here? I promise to give you a thirty percent discount on any prison time if you save me the time and expense of shuttling between here and your office.”

“That’s awfully…”

“Merciful.”

“Improvisational,” Jessica decided after a moment.

“I’ve been known to make things up as I go along.”

“I’m aware of that, too.”

The point obviously went straight over his head, as he merely chuckled under her scrutiny.

“There is an additional reason for my trip over here, actually.”

“Oh?”

“It’s my fellow name partner has been acting…a little strange recently. He was off before he took his temporary departure five years ago, but I didn’t notice it as much back then.”

“Are you suggesting that I should investigate him alone in the place of everyone else at your firm? I don’t run the psych ward, Jessica.”

“No. In fact, I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just that with all of the events unfolding simultaneously I haven’t been able to assure myself that I’m a proper judge of character, and it’s not like I can get a reliable second opinion when everyone else I know is beholden to him.”

“I didn’t plan to exclude him from the investigation, Jessica. If something is wrong then I’m sure it will come out in the wash,” the mustachioed prosecutor promised, leaning back in his chair. “People aren’t nearly as smart as they think they are.”

“How very true,” Jessica remarked, biting her tongue so as not to make any sharper stabs at his character. “I suppose that will be all. Here’s wishing we don’t meet in court.”

“Wishing won’t make it so, Jessica,” Cameron waved from his seat.

“Oh thank God,” Hardman cried as he heaved his way into the office. Bits of food were strewn about his garb and face, and he looked like he’d lost five pounds of water on his way across town.

She’d need to give Harvey a bigger bonus come the end of the quarter.

“Daniel? What are you doing here?”

“How could…you give him…those documents?” he forced through wheezing breaths.

“Daniel, those files fall within the scope of Cameron’s investigation and there’s nothing incriminating in them. What did you want me to do – waste precious employee hours fighting to hold onto them instead of serving to our clients’ needs?”

“You know what’s…in those papers, Jessica, and you…know exactly…what you’re doing.”

“Could you be a bit more specific, Daniel? I’m afraid that I’m unaware of what you’re trying to communicate to me.”

“Mr. Hardman, you look quite flushed. Why don’t you take a seat and we can have a chat about what in those files is so important that you sprinted to my office?” Cameron invited. For his part, Hardman looked at the proffered seat like it was a hive of tarantulas.

“No, that’s quite alright,” he puffed, “I guess Jessica is right. There’s nothing in any of those papers…that would damage the firm any worse…than that reckless associate already did.”

“That’s quite a change of heart you just had. At the very least, I really think you should sit and rest for a moment – I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so wan.”

“I second that suggestion. I can’t have my fellow name partner dropping dead of a heart attack when we’re in the middle of an investigation,” Jessica added as the man in question grasped the doorframe for stability.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Hardman stated in time for the ringtone of his cellphone to interrupt him. He blanched as he caught sight of the name on the screen and quickly pressed the button to end the call. “But I just remembered that I need to meet with a client, so I really must be going.”

“Who was that calling you?” Jessica asked, though Hardman was already mid-flight.

“I see what you mean about the flakiness,” Cameron admitted as the short man exited the office as suddenly as he had entered. “If I seek a warrant to monitor his phone calls, would you be willing to submit an affidavit of your concerns for us to present to the judge?”

“I’ll have to think about it. He is my fellow founding partner, after all,” Jessica answered carefully, struggling to mask the joy bubbling up from within her. She had a feeling that it wouldn’t matter whether or not she cooperated.

“Don’t think that I’m letting you under my radar, either; I’ll be watching you as well.”

“Go right ahead. I’ve nothing to hide, Cameron.”

\-----

“Your honor, I think Mr. Ross clearly established that the grievances of his and Mr. Litt’s clients was with the employee Mr. Wren and not Dirastacco’s as a whole. We have a number of documents that establish that the official policies of the company strongly condemn his beliefs and practices. Moreover-”

“Moreover, bullshit,” Louis interrupted Scottie. “ _Baines v. Hopwell_ , your honor, as well as about five billion other cases. Merely terminating the employment of a problem member does not absolve the organization of fault for his actions. Dirastacco’s still needs to compensate our clients for the damages incurred.”

“Moreover,” Scottie continued, “we presented a generous settlement offer to the aggrieved party, which they refused out of hand. This case is nothing but a treasure hunt at the expense of the co-workers of these women. You must throw it out immediately.”

“I’ll decide my own actions, Ms. Scott. Mr. Litt, what about that settlement offer?”

“Mr. Zane presented us with an offer to assist in a possible lawsuit against Mr. Wren alone, which our clients rejected for good reason. It would not cement the importance of reforms to promotion policies.”

“It would have the effect of encouraging attitudes more in line with the company’s policies if we sued Mr. Wren together.”

“So you admit that the upper management of the company does not follow those policies currently?” Mike asked from his chair.

“I believe she said they would become more in line with said policies, not change completely. We could ask the steno to read it out if you’re confused, junior,” Zane swiped without bothering to look at them.

“Ms. Scott, is there any possibility your clients would be willing to give ground so as to reach a mutually agreeable settlement?”

“Absolutely not, your honor.”

“Mr. Litt?”

“No.”

“Are all of your clients aware that the loser of this trial will be liable for the costs incurred by continuing this trial? Yours especially, Mr. Litt.”

Both Louis and Scottie nodded their understanding.

“In that case, we will continue with examinations of the final witnesses on Wednesday, per the schedule you submitted, Mr. Zane. Are there any other matters which need airing today?”

“Yes,” Scottie ordered as she advanced into the well, “we would like to have the testimony of Mr. Wren struck from the record.”

“On what grounds?” Louis cried.

“He’s no longer an employee with Dirastacco’s, and therefore the complainants’ grievances toward him are no longer applicable to Dirastacco’s, per _Daren v. Streiman_.”

“Which means that your clients admit they were negligent in their oversight of him while he was their employee,” Mike argued.

“No. _Vander v. Johnson_ , if the employer acts within a grace period-”

“ _Vander v. Johnson_ only helps you before the start of a trial. In that case, it was the written statement of the offending employee which threatened to attach guilt to the company.”

“ _Cebrian v. Clatchy_ , the written testimony and the spoken testimony of a witness are treated as equal in the eyes-”

“Which was overturned by _Quartz v. Wendt_ when it comes to civil suits. You’ll have to try harder than that-”

“Sorry, kid. _Solise v. Mitchell_ established that _Cebrian_ applies if the monetary damages incurred by a civil suit would exceed $150,000. Too bad there’s nothing you can do-”

“ _Trent v. Phillips_ ,” Louis called as he stood, testing to see if Mike was aware of the precedent established by that obscure case.

“What?”

“We never requested a specific monetary amount when we began this trial,” Mike began as he shot a thankful smile Louis’ way. “All we asked for was the back wages on those promotions that would have rightfully been granted to our clients.”

“Surely those total more than the limit set by _Solise_.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t set a specific amount until both sides have undergone some form of post-trial, court-overseen arbitration, which means that even if they are more than $150,000, you can’t prove it without our consent.”

“You’d knowingly devalue your own potential winnings just to save that testimony?”

“We don’t have to, because until you agree to settle with our clients no one will have any concrete idea of how much they’re owed. Hence _Trent_ means that the testimony cannot be contested by opposing counsel.”

“I do so enjoy watching a sparring match like that, especially when it involves someone as young as you, Mr. Ross. Gives me hope for the next generation of lawyers and judges,” Judge Sneiderman praised from the bench. “It must have been all those years busily paying attention at Harvard.”

Louis caught Mike rubbing the back of his head and blushing at the judge’s compliment – trust the rookie to get all weird about someone saying nothing more than he was a good student.

Wait, did Mike finish Harvard with a higher GPA than Louis Litt? That would need urgent investigating.

“The testimony will stand. You’ll just have to find something better to outshine it, Ms. Scott. Now, if none of you mind I’ve had a very long day with three other proceedings and I would like to go home already.”

“You got lucky,” Scottie warned Mike as she got up to leave the courtroom.

“You got owned,” Mike bragged from behind Louis, eliciting a hiss from the lawyer in the pencil skirt.

“Well, I’m pretty sure we got her riled up enough that she’ll get sloppy and allow Donna to do her thing. Should we call her?” the junior partner asked.

“Already on it,” Mike explained, scrolling through his contact list.

“Wait, how the hell do you have Donna’s number? I’ve labored alongside her for ten years, and she only gave it to me after I paid to have a new copier installed in the workroom.”

“Don’t know what to tell you, Louis,” Mike shrugged before turning back to his phone. “Alright, Ms. Paulsen, it’s your scene.”

\-----

“Are you sure she’s coming here?” Rachel asked as she extracted another edamame from the bag in her lap.

“Oh, I know she is. I can sense her presence approaching this place as we speak,” Donna assured as she popped a few chocolate-covered mints into her mouth.

“Do you ever hear yourself when you’re in these weird trance moments? You sound like a comic book character.”

“You just need an alternate persona of your own, Rachel. Think about it – what would your superpower be if you fell in a vat of some freaky chemical or got bitten by a radioactive whatchamacallit?”

“I don’t know…super-researching?”

“Laaaaaaaaaame,” Keith groaned from the front seat. “Even Superman didn’t get saddled with a super skill that boring, and I read the one where he super-weaved Lois a wedding gown.”

“Why is everyone else at Pearson Hardman so into comics, anyway?”

“Most of them are lawyers, Rachel. They’re nerds with fat bank accounts and egos that need vaulted ceilings; of course they’d read comic books as kids.”

“But what about you?”

“Oh, I just read some of Ha…”

“Ha…? Harvey Specter has comic books?”

“Harold, Rachel. Harold has many comic books, and he was very eager to show me some of them like the little schoolboy he is. Besides, I had plenty of free time while I was out of the office. Hell, I have plenty of free time even when I’m in the office.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not sure yet. What would yours be?” Rachel asked, turning to Keith.

“Definitely something to do with wind.”

“So you could fly around and blow away your enemies?”

“That, and also being able to blow away car exhaust fumes and the BO of particularly pungent cabbies stopped in the next lane over.”

“And yours?” Rachel asked as she turned back to her commanding officer for this bizarre stakeout mission.

“Well, I’d say being able to seduce any man on the planet, but I’ve already got that one. Oh, and I’ve got clairvoyance, too, so I can’t say that one…” Donna considered. (Rachel’s pupils nearly bumped into the ceiling of the car as they rolled around her eyes.) “Probably reincarnation, and none of that ‘my spirit goes into another body’ bullshit; I’m talking about spontaneously combusting upon death and starting out again as a baby like a phoenix.”

“I suppose that goes with your hair.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Donna informed, tossing another mint into her mouth. “Now it’s your turn.”

“Hmm, I don’t know many female comic book characters. Well, right now I might say being Minerva in disguise just so I could’ve had the satisfaction of bursting out of my obnoxious father’s forehead,” Rachel thought aloud, imagining how satisfying that would be. “But aside from that, I’d be happy to just have more control over my emotions. Oh, and super cooking.”

“No, no, no. Screw cooking, you are Minerva. Whenever you’re in a tough jam, just imagine that you really are a goddess.”

“What good would that do me?”

“Plenty. Confidence is something that you have a little of on your own, but you need to fabricate the rest. Imagining yourself as a total badass is the best way to do that – hell, I think that’s what a lot of guys get out of comics, too.”

“Helped me out when I was getting bullied in middle school,” Keith affirmed.

“So…I’ve got a sword and shield and I’m going wreck shit up?”

“Yeah, and Minerva’s a good choice, but there’s better. Like Juno: total indomitable bitch who doesn’t have a fuck to give because her husband’s using them all to screw women…animals…hell, probably even some attractive trees and bushes. Or Kali; wait, no – Durga.”

“Durga?”

“Definitely. The next time Louis or Kyle stops by your office with some ridiculous request at 7:50 PM, just remember you’ve got a bajillion arms and you can kick his butt with any one of them. And when you’re ready to talk to your father again, it’ll be a piece of cake.”

“That’s actually…genius.”

“See? You need to give comic books another chance, but we’ll discuss this again later. The lady of the hour has arrived.”

“She’s finally here?” Rachel asked as she fumbled for the camera. “Took her long enough.”

“Hey, when you’re having dinner with a hedge fund manager trying to buy out your own client’s company, I’m sure there’s plenty to talk about.”

“That’s just wrong. Ethically, morally, tastefully…” Keith moaned as he sunk down in his seat to allow the two women to begin snapping pictures through the windshield. “What did Harvey ever see in that woman?”

“A lawyer who’s not afraid to walk the line of legality so close she’s practically dry-humping it,” Donna guessed as Rachel caught the man kissing Scottie’s hand in her viewfinder.

\-----

From: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 8:45 PM

_Operation Oreo Twist is going ahead at full steam._

To: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Sent: 8:47 PM

_Good to hear, although I don’t think I’m the only one listening._

From: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 8:50 PM

_Do you want me to write out all the details of our tawdry lesbian love affair so they have something interesting to read? I worked at a phone sex line when I was in college, and I’ve still got most of the vocabulary from there._

From: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 8:51 PM

_Succulent._

From: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Received: 8:51 PM

_Callypigian._

To: Donna (212-XXX-XXXX)

Sent: 8:53 PM

_Remind me not to let you make the name cards for the company party._

\-----

“Don’t spill any noodles on the floor or the furniture while I’m gone,” Harvey warned his associate. “And don’t let me catch you slacking when I get back.”

“Right, Mr. Specter.”

Harvey stretched out his arms as he walked down the hallway to the bathroom. It was late and early – there’d be another few hours of digging around for what he and Harold were hunting before he’d allow either of them to go home. And it would be a much quieter home, as Marcus had left the day before.

“Evening, Mr. Specter.”

“Mike? What are you doing here? I thought you would have left for the day already, considering what happened in court,” Harvey questioned as he glanced around the bathroom to make sure it was empty.

“No, Jessica has me prepping her documents for a meeting tomorrow morning, so I get the privilege of staying behind after her and Wendy have already gone home.”

“Hmm, well it does come with one bright spot,” the brunet judged as he leaned in for a kiss. “I haven’t spoken to you since this morning, and you were still pretty out of it when I left.”

“Yeah, because you got up early again and I knew that if I chased you out to the kitchen you’d just make some crack about how stupid my hair looked.”

“It is pretty fascinating how unkempt it can get in the course of six hours of sleep.”

Mike wagged his tongue before plodding over to the hand dryers. “Harvey, it’s not going to be like this all the time is it? I’m not worried about what might happen, but I mean…I hate waiting for things to turn out, good or bad. It feels like we’re stuck until our opposition makes a move.”

“I know.”

“And even then, we’ll still have to face off against Jessica.”

“I know.”

“Why can’t it be over already?”

“It will be soon, Mike. For now, all you need to do is make sure you don’t make any mistakes until that time comes,” Harvey reassured as he wrapped his arms around the younger man.

“You’re not freaking out anymore?”

“Harvey Specter, freak out? What kind of nonsense is that, Mike?”

The blond shook his head and released himself from the embrace.

“Any news from Benjamin?”

“He finished what we needed him to do, but he set up an internal timer for his hack so that it won’t activate until Cameron Dennis has had enough time to get his warrant. What about Marcus?”

“He called me from Heathrow late this morning and he’s probably in Cotonou waiting for the final jump flight as we speak. He said that Trevor is still in detox, moreso for the pot than the dope,” Harvey listed, earning a contented nod from the other man.

“In that case, I have loopholes to catch, so I’ll let you finish up in here and get back to whatever it is you and Harold are doing.”

“Mike?”

“Yeah, Harvey?”

“…I’ll see you when I get home.”

Mike saluted the older man and exited the restroom, leaving Harvey standing with stupid smile plastered on his face. It took until the time he finished washing his hands to get rid of it. (He didn’t want Harold to get too comfortable with his recent successes.)

“I can’t see any sweet and sour sauce on the upholstery yet, rookie. Did you find anything while I was in the bathroom?”

“Not what we’re looking for, but I did narrow down the search parameters. Hardman already knew Tanner by the time of this case seven years ago, so they would’ve had to have met earlier than that.”

“Hmm, that should save us about a half-dozen boxes. Good work, rookie.”

The ferret paused for a beat too long and Harvey knew something was on his mind.

“Got a question for me?”

“Can I crack open my fortune cookie now?”

“What did I say about that, Harold?”

“‘Fortune cookies are for winners.”

“And?”

“And we haven’t found what we’re looking for yet.”

“So?”

“It can wait.”

“Exactly. And the other senior partners worry that I’m a terrible mentor – what do they know?” Harvey ridiculed as he reached for the stack of papers he’d left on the table when he left.

The thought of spooning Mike’s scrawny frame later that night encouraged him to wrap up this nuisance search and get back to the things that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two days late, but I'm still trying to catch up from a quick jaunt out of town sprung on me by my friends.
> 
> I tried to dress this chapter up, but it's still largely a plot-mover and little else. I'd say there are about two chapters remaining (with an epilogue), though, so there's a lot to get in before closing time.
> 
> EDIT: Darn Microsoft Word clipping words. I've corrected Donna's text messages, so that conversation should make more sense.


	23. Operation Doodoo

“Ma’am? Ma’am, do you have an appointment with someone in the building?”

“Hmm?” Edith Ross asked in return as she tapped the ‘Up’ button at the elevator bank. “I came to surprise my grandson. He works for Pearson Hardman.”

“So he doesn’t know you’re coming?- because I can’t let you up unless you have an appointment,” the hefty, bald man informed her apologetically.

“What’s your name, dear?”

“You can call me Steve, ma’am. Now why don’t I help you back to the security desk and I’ll try to call your grandson-”

“But Steve, if you call him then it won’t be a surprise. And I know you don’t know this because you’re still young, but people my age struggle just to remember what’s for lunch in the cafeteria – I’m not here for corporate espionage.”

“It’s against regulations…”

“I went to the trouble of baking him a tray of my cookies, and you don’t know how hard I had to beg the nurses at the care facility to let me operate an oven. If they get stale before I see him, it’s on you, Steve,” Edith warned with the same glare she’d used to coax the truth out of Michael and his father as children.

“Well, I really-”

Resilient, this one was; time for the nuclear option, it seemed.

“And I happen to have met Jessica Pearson once, and she and I got along like the best of friends. Do you want me to tell her about the hullaballoo I had to endure to get to her offices?”

“N-no, I definitely don’t want that.”

“Good, then I’ll just head up now,” Edith concluded as the doors opened in front of her, leaving the security guard looking flabbergasted in her wake. “Don’t worry, though, I’ll make sure Michael leaves a cookie for you, dear.”

“So you’re ‘Grammy’, huh?” he asked, a grin replacing the defeated frown on his face. “I see where he gets his moxie now.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” she smirked in return.

Steve backed away from the door, allowing another man to pass him and get in the elevator beside her. Judging the lack of protest from the security guard, Edith assumed he was either a well-known worker at one of the offices in the skyscraper or else a frequent visitor.

“Your floor, sir?”

“…Fifty,” he replied eventually, busily flicking through emails on his phone.

“What a coincidence – that happens to be where I’m heading, too.”

No response.

“You wouldn’t happen to be visiting someone who works here, too? Or maybe you’re opposing one of them in a legal matter?”

“The latter option,” the man replied, though Edith could sense the silent ‘and’ at the end of his answer.

“Well, if you’re going up against Jessica Pearson then I’m sure you must not have a moment to let your guard down. My grandson is an associate here and he says it’s the best firm in the city,” Edith smiled as she recalled Michael’s proud, almost childish bragging.

“If it was just Jessica Pearson and me sparring in a courtroom, then it wouldn’t be much of a challenge,” the man sighed as he redirected his phone to its photo album. “My daughter works here, too, and she wasn’t happy about me taking a case against her boss.”

“Is it a rare occurrence, you battling it out with Pearson Hardman?”

“No, but…it involves race and her mother is Caucasian. We did our best to insulate her from tensions growing up – maybe too good – and she wants to see everything through rose-colored glasses,” he explained with a tinge of lament. “But if she wants to be a lawyer and not just a paralegal, she’ll need to get comfortable with difficult situations and questionable clients.”

“You two had a fight the last time you were here,” Edith guessed with her intuition. “And you’d rather not be here, but you needed to stop by for the sake of your client.”

“She’ll get over it. We’ve fought plenty of times and eventually we’ve managed to put our differences behind us,” he defended. “Lately, though, the stress of failing the LSATs and her workload has made it easier for us to put off apologies. I think I miss just catching up with her most of all.”

“You shouldn’t let things fester like that. The last thing I ever said to my son was, ‘Don’t let me catch you back here unless you’ve got eggs for me to make the cake’,” Edith recalled ruefully. “Every time he left my house I’d always tell him that I loved him, but that day I was so upset because he’d asked me to bake for my daughter-in-law’s birthday but couldn’t even remember the ingredients. I never got to see him again…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have scared you like that.”

“How did he…?”

“He and my daughter were struck by another driver. I raised my grandson after that…and like you, I probably did too good a job of it. He can be just as absent-minded as his father sometimes,” Edith observed with a quiet laugh.

“Y’know, I would have given anything to have baked goods brought to me when I was a rookie associate. Your grandson is one lucky guy.”

“He’s a good boy,” she affirmed with a nod.

“My daughter is, too,” the man thought aloud as his face broke into a smile. “I can’t even remember the last time I had a conversation as nice as this in an elevator. Most of the time it’s just recent graduates trying to sell their resumes to me.”

“Would you like a cookie? It’ll put you over the moon – I promise.”

“I would, but I’ve got to be careful with my diabetes, Miss…?”

“Edith. And your name is?”

“Robert,” he stated with a nod as the lift reached its destination. “I’d offer you a handshake, but your hands are already full, so I’ll guess we have to settle for a ‘Nice meeting you’.”

“Good to meet you, too,” Edith grinned as the man made his way past the reception desk and on down one of the hallways. She realized that she should have asked him for directions only as his figure disappeared behind the curve in the wall. “Excuse me, miss. Do you know where Donna Paulsen is?”

“Hmm, Donna? She should be at her desk outside of Mr. Specter’s office. He’s in the back corner over there,” the brunette eked out eventually, struggling with a phone held up to each ear. “It’s just through the associates pool.”

“And if I don’t want to disrupt the associates?”

“Then you can follow that hallway to the copy room and then hang a right once you get to the door. Mr. Specter’s office is a crystal palace – you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you very much. I’ll let you get back to business,” Edith offered before turning and setting out on the next part of her journey. She had to dodge a few nervous-looking associates sprinting past her as well as a blonde paralegal who seemed particularly clumsy, too busy texting someone on her phone to watch where she was going.

“Donna, I got two tickets to see The Tempest at the Met. Are you really going to lie to me and tell me you have no interest in going as a fellow Shakespearian?” a stumpy, balding man asked as he leaned over the top of the redhead’s desk.

“Louis, I…I have to meet with someone right now,” she shot back as she caught sight of Edith. “I’ll have to get back to you later.”

“Who? Who are you meeting?” he demanded, obviously suspicious.

“Why, this lovely lady right here.”

“Who is she?”

“Louis! Just because you don’t know her doesn’t mean she can’t speak or that you can get away with acting like she’s not here,” Donna corrected as she took the covered tray of cookies from Edith’s (very) tired arms.

“So who are you?” Louis asked again, this time to Edith.

“I’m Mi-”

“No, don’t tell him. He’s been rude and he doesn’t deserve to know anything about this,” Donna corrected, folding her arms. “Besides, Louis needs to meet with opposing counsel and really shouldn’t be standing around here harassing someone else’s executive assistant. Should I tell Harvey about this?”

For such a plump, short man, this Louis fellow sure could sprint away quite well.

“I’m sorry about not being able to meet you at downstairs at security, Edith. I’ve been trying to coordinate with two groups of caterers and I’m about ready to just cancel our contracts with them and cook for the company party myself. Did you find your way here alright?”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, dear. I got to meet that nice security guard, Steve – very diligent, by the way – and I had a lovely chat with a man named Robert on the way up here,” Mrs. Ross informed as she followed the younger woman into her boss’ office.

“Robert? As in Robert Zane?”

“I didn’t ask him for his surname. Why, is he someone very important?”

“Not really,” she replied cryptically. “But never mind that. You’re here and I have so many questions to ask of you. Before we get to all the juicy stuff, though, I need to know-”

“Which one of the cookies is the ‘special’ one I made for that Harold fellow? It’s that one there in the corner,” she directed as she pulled back the tin foil covering them, “you can tell it apart because it’s got the glitter of the ground-up Dulcolax – that’s why I put an extra layer of wax paper underneath it. I still feel a little weird about doing this to someone I haven’t met yet…”

“Don’t worry about it. Trust me: you’re helping his career trajectory, not hurting it.”

“I suppose I’ll have to do just that. Just remember to give that to him an hour before you need him to…well, you know.”

“Got it. Now why don’t you get out those baby pictures while I fetch you some tea?”

“You’re going to love them,” Edith smiled as she began unzipping her purse. “He was every bit as adorable back then as he is now.”

“That’s a bold claim to make.”

\-----

Rachel was busy clattering off corrections to Devon’s prospective precedent analysis for a case when she heard a knock on the door. Sighing (doubly so with the knowledge that it would be so much easier for her to simply do his work for him), she turned from the computer screen and caught the unmistakable mug of her father.

“You tell me: should I let you in or just tell you to get out of my sight now and save us both the trouble?”

Pushing the door open, he plodded into the middle of her office and eyed one of the chairs for guests warily. Rachel’s father had put weight on again, and at this point he, his doctor, and mom all knew that if he couldn’t lose it and keep it off he’d struggle to make it to his seventieth birthday.

“We both said some things…look, what I’m trying to say is…I’m on the verge of heading into curmudgeon territory and I shouldn’t be making more enemies before I’ve lost all hope of redemption.”

“That’s your best line?”

“I’m going to call Dirastacco’s and release myself, and my firm, from this case once I finish talking to you here. I wasn’t going to abandon them, but…well, it’s stupid, but something changed my mind.”

“Are you doing that because you think it will fix things between us, or because you’ve realized that your clients’ arguments are hopeless?” Rachel asked carefully, though she was slightly mollified at the display of humility. Robert Zane didn’t pull his firm off of a case lightly, not least because of the legal responsibilities that usually came with taking one in the first place.

“Don’t expect me to do this every time you have a problem with one of my clients,” her father dodged. “Tantrums might have worked on your mother, but we both know I could enjoy my football games even with you crying in the timeout corner.”

“Bringing up that aspect of my childhood isn’t going to make my forgiveness more apparent, either.”

“I’m just letting you know that this instance is sui generis. You do know what that means, don’t you?”

Rachel raised an eyebrow and shook her head dismissively. “I’m not an eighth grader, dad. And for your information, I’m taking the LSATs again next weekend.”

“Rachel, I thought we-”

“One of the associates has been helping me study during meal breaks, and he’s given me a lot of pointers on how to stay confident once the proctor starts the timer.”

“Just as long as he’s not trying to use studying as an excuse to give you his other pointer.”

“I highly doubt that, dad; Mike is gay.”

“Mike Ross? You mean that scrawny little guy who’s been trying to keep up with me in court? Good – I’d never let a guy like that marry my daughter.”

“Isn’t that what granddad said about you – I mean, excepting the ‘scrawny’ part of course,” Rachel scoffed as she gleefully took a red pen to some of Missy Deitler’s research.

“Did you have to hit me below the belt like that?” her father asked with a smirk on his face. “It is true, though. That man had a stick up his butt about me until the day you were born – he must have known you’d be worth putting up with me.”

“Your obvious flattery is obvious, dad.”

“I’m more upset that you brought up Professor Goldberg in front of Louis Litt.”

“He doesn’t know who he is or what you did. Even if it was completely stupid.”

“You mean me pretending to be a pinko Democrat so that he’d recommend me for the _Law Review_?”

“How long did you expect to be able to pull off a role that impossible for you?”

“It worked for the month between when he met me and when he sent off that letter. I told him I read Thoreau of all people.”

“Did you?”

“A couple chapters, and then I used that Hippie nonsense book as toilet paper. Man spends a few weeks out in the woods in between his comfortable modern life and thinks he’s an outdoorsman. You know what Socialists used to light their houses before candles?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me,” Rachel called as she crossed out five lines worth of decisions that had nothing to do with the case in question.

“Electricity.”

“That one’s not as bad as some of the other jokes you tell.”

“Can you forgive me, Rachel?”

She raised her head again and judged the look on the man’s face. He seemed sincere, and it wasn’t in her nature to hold a grudge forever (she’d gotten past Harold downing her protein shake in desperation after chasing two potential witnesses for Harvey across town that one day, after all).

“You’re taking me out to lunch.”

“There’s the lawyer in you. I’m not eating anything with a name that I can’t pronounce. And just because you taught me how to say quinoa doesn’t mean that that’s allowed, either.”

“You’re going to start exercising with me again once I’m done with the LSATs, too. I fully expect you to walk me down the aisle, so we can’t risk you having a heart attack.”

“I’m fine with everything but yoga.”

“That’s fine – nobody wants to see you in tights, dad.”

“Below the belt again?”

“I’m still a little pissed about that mixed-race comment. Either you let me have a few swings now or it’ll fester until later,” Rachel instructed. “You go on ahead to the lobby downstairs. I’ll pass the information along to Louis and Mike to save you some face. How’s that for an even trade?”

“You let that Louis nut know that if I ever go up against him again, I’ll wipe the floor with him.”

“Gladly.”

Rachel allowed her father to open the door for her and hurried down to the conference room. Both Mike and Louis were waiting at the long table, and turned expectantly when they heard her step inside.

“My d…Ro…Zane dropped the case. You’re only up against Dana Scott now.”

“What?!” both men cried in unison.

“He didn’t really get into it, but so far as I know it’s not because of anything I did or said,” she explained quickly. “However, you still owe me for all my assistance. Accordingly, I’m taking a long lunch break today; if Jessica wonders where I am, it’s on you to cover for me. Any questions?”

The two lawyers paused as they allowed the information to set in before shaking their heads. Pleased, Rachel rushed to see if she could still catch the elevator her father had called.

\-----

“He really wanted to play the tuba?” Donna asked incredulously as she took one last sip from her nearly empty coffee cup.

“It’s like he had no idea of how skinny he was.”

“I might need a copy of that picture of him reading Moby Dick when he was four for his birthday,” she requested as she took Edith’s and her napkins and dumped the crumbs into Harvey’s wastebin. Not that there were many – Donna had practically inhaled hers.

As she returned, she noticed her boss walking down the hallway toward them. He shot her a questioning glance before he turned and saw Edith sitting on his couch; his eyes bugged out and he performed a remarkably neat u-turn.

“Excuse me for one moment, would you?”

“That’s quite alright, dear.”

Donna exited the glass office and accelerated to a near jog as she chased her boss into the copy room. “Oh no you don’t, Harvey.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Donna,” he cut her off coolly. “I just came in here to make some copies of a document.”

“Uh huh. If that’s the case then just go right ahead; I’ll wait here while you…’make some copies’.”

“…Damnit,” the brunet cursed after a moment of fumbling with the keypad for the machine. “Why is she here?”

“Because I asked her to stop by and chat while she waits for Mike to get free to have lunch with her.”

“I meant why is she in my office?”

“Because she wants to speak with you.”

“What if I don’t want to speak with her?”

“Too bad. You don’t get to pound her grandson into the mattress and then avoid her. At least, that’s not what a _gentleman_ would do in this situation. And you do consider yourself a gentleman, don’t you?” Donna asked with a dark smirk.

“I’m very busy.”

“Not until this afternoon when you’re due in court. Now go have a chat with Mrs. Ross; I assure you that she’s delightful and insightful.”

“Just how insightful is she?”

“Oh, she knows that you’re boinking Mike.”

Donna’s boss blanched like a head of lettuce.

“I’m not ‘boinking’ anyone. We’re two men who get along well, and that’s all there is to say about that.”

“You can go with that line, but I don’t think it will stand up to her intelligence for very long. Now will you stop pretending to be a secretary and just talk to her already? You’re acting like…wait, that’s it,” Donna cried as she snapped her finger.

“Huh?” Harvey glanced with a raised eyebrow.

“You’ve never met the parent…er, grandparent…of anyone you were dating, have you?”

“That’s completely absurd, Donna.”

“You’re…nervous! Harvey Specter is afraid of a little old lady with a tray of cookies. Oh, this is just too good.”

“I am _not_ afraid of her.”

“Then what are you doing hiding in the copy room? Scaredycat.”

“I…that’s it,” Harvey concluded, adjusting his tie before he left the copy room in the direction of his office.

“Worked like a charm,” Donna surmised, following behind him at a decent distance so he wouldn’t realize the power of her reverse psychology. Thankfully he hadn’t had the sense to turn off his intercom by the time she reached her desk.

“Hello, Mrs. Ross. It’s good to finally meet the famous ‘Grammy’ of our newest associate.”

“You can drop the colleague routine, Mr. Specter. Do I look like I was born yesterday?”

Donna had to suppress the urge to run into the room and give Edith a high five at that. The woman was a worthy match for her boss, that was sure.

“You…er, you have remarkably good skin complexion for a…lady of a certain age, Mrs. Ross,” Donna’s boss remarked once he’d recovered. “You can call me Harvey, by the way.”

“And you can call me Edith. I see that Donna’s description of you as a gentleman was fairly accurate, but you don’t have to inflate my ego with compliments.”

“I suppose so. You…know about…”

“Don’t worry, Harvey. You’re already better than some of the other men I’ve seen stumbling out of Michael’s apartment when I’ve surprised him with morning visits over the years.”

“I…thanks?”

“My grandson has his own needs when it comes to partners, and I’d like to know that he’ll have someone he can rely on when I’m not around any longer. He deserves that.”

“I agree, but I’m not even sure if we’ll be able to carry on as both employees and…partners, and I don’t want to take away the chance to work as a lawyer. I know his job here means a lot to him, as well.”

Donna caught a pleased smile spread across Edith’s face as she leaned down to retrieve a cookie. She held it out to the redhead’s boss expectantly.

“It’s a little early for sweets.”

“Just take one bite,” Edith insisted.

“If you say so… _Holy. Crap._ What’s in this?” Harvey asked in shock, staring at the baked good in his hand.

“Uh uh, I won’t answer that question if you don’t watch your language, mister. Besides, it’s a family secret,” the elderly woman chided jovially.

“Mmm,” Harvey moaned unabashedly as he took another (slower) bite of the cookie.

“So I gather from all these records that you’re a jazz fan. What do you have from Thelonious Monk?”

“ _Well, you needn’t_ have asked,” Donna’s boss joked, carefully wiping off his hands with a napkin before walking over to one of the shelves near the door and retrieving a record. “What else do you want to know about me?”

“I tried to ask Michael about your background, but he was insistent about not revealing anything about your family despite my prodding. I got the impression that your privacy in that area was quite important.”

“It is.”

“Initially, I was concerned that you might not have much experience with how to maintain a relationship, but I can see that you have a very helpful…assistant…who’s more than happy to provide you with advice.”

“Yes. One might even say that she’s too helpful,” Harvey added, turning up from the spinning vinyl to shoot a warning look at Donna. She rolled her eyes at him.

“I’m not here to judge you for your unique situation growing up; goodness knows how hypocritical of me that would be. But I’m sure the past months have been a bit of a bolt from the blue for you, based on how Mike described you after his first day.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“It’s just…I know what it’s like when you’re in a situation where you’re powerless to take charge of your own life. And then when you have that power, you want everything to go a certain way and it’s hard to adapt to changing circumstances. But surprises and changes are good – they’re what make life enjoyable.”

“You’re telling me to be more accepting of all of Mike’s quirks?”

“I heard that you’re a bit stodgy,” Edith laughed, “and from the layout of your office I can see that description is accurate. My point is that relationships work much better when both parties are flexible.”

“I’m pretty sure that I’m not going to be okay with how slovenly Mike is with his dirty clothes, but I have the best maid in the city, so that’s okay.”

Edith burst into amused laughter at that. “I never could get him to navigate the process of using a hamper on a regular basis.”

“To be honest, I’m still trying to get adjusted to how powerful his mind is. Not just how much knowledge it can retain, but also its limitations; aside from his aforementioned messiness, there’s the way his emotions sometimes make him take the longest, most roundabout route to an otherwise simple destination.”

“He’s a more of a Skywalker than a Ross – is that what you’re saying?” she asked, causing Donna to hone in on Harvey’s face.

He was beaming.

“Oh, what, you thought he let me get off without watching those _Star Wars_ movies over and over? I did hesitate with _The Empire Strikes Back_ for a while…I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate for a five-year-old to view it.”

“I think Mike’s more Luke than Anakin, anyway.”

“Thanks in no small part to my excellent guardianship,” Edith chuckled. “And even if he was, he’d still be better than that wretched Jar Jar Binks.”

“I have a feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Edith. May I have another cookie?” Harvey asked (politely?- was that possible?) as he took the seat across the coffee table from her.

“I might even give you the recipe if you visit the care facility with Michael.”

“…What else do you want to know?” Donna’s boss inquired as he retrieved another perfectly crispy wedge of chocolate chips from the tray at Edith’s allowance.

“I just want you to tell me how you really feel about him, in your own words. Tell me that, and then I’ll go bug my grandson.”

Harvey used the cookie to buy time as he stood and walked toward the window. He’d just begun to say something when he paused and turned off his intercom, leaving Donna cursing herself for not practicing her lip-reading skill.

She was going to murder whoever had taught him how to do that.

\-----

“I’ve had more than enough shenanigans with this one trial alone, and I’m the third judge trying to sort out this mess. Miss Scott, will you please tell me where your co-counsel is so that we may begin?” Judge Sneiderman demanded as he massaged his eyelids.

“He has rescinded his role as attorney for our…well, my client, your honor.”

“So it’s just you then?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“Did your clients agree to Mr. Zane’s decision freely and willingly?” the judge continued, turning toward the gallery. “Gentlemen, I assume you were instructed to come here by Miss Scott to answer that question.”

The trio of middle-aged men turned to each other and then Scottie before the most courageous one stood. “That’s correct, your honor. Umm…on both counts.”

“Gentlemen, you’re aware that when a lawyer abandons his client it’s not a terribly promising sign? In laymen’s terms, it’s a bit like when a campaign manager flees a failing candidate for political office.”

“Our CEO is still confident in the services of Miss Scott…your honor.”

“Look, I can’t make him reverse his decision, but I am ordering a fifteen minute recess so you have some time to decide just how confident you are that you can win this case. Miss Scott is a formidable attorney but she might not be able to win this case for you single-handedly.”

“Excuse me, your honor.”

Mike turned to see Donna strolling toward the well; he swung back and caught Judge Sneiderman stop himself from slamming his gavel down onto its sounding block.

“Miss, you can’t just interrupt a trial in session, stunning good looks be damned. Now we’re just about to take a recess; why don’t you wait a moment and then say whatever’s on your mind.”

“Oh, I think everyone in this room is going to want to hear what I have to say,” the redhead claimed as she handed the heavily muscled bailiff a stack of photographs. “On second thought, maybe not Miss Scott.”

\-----

“Mr. Specter, I don’t feel well.”

“Suck it up, Harold. We need to get this case thrown out and you getting sick is not an option.”

“No, Mr. Specter. I really don’t feel well,” the curly-haired associate groaned as he clutched his stomach. “I…I don’t think I can hold it in any longer.”

“Jesus, Harold. If you have to go then at least go in the bathroom.” Harvey watched as his second chair rose to his feet and stumbled back toward the hallway. “But don’t be so damned obvious about where you’re going, would you?” he hissed, causing the sick associate to correct himself as best he could.

“Wasn’t that your associate leaving just now?” Tanner asked as he entered the courtroom a moment later. “I’ve got to say, that’s a real tough choice: work for a tool like you or be unemployed in the worst job market for lawyers in history.”

“If I’m a tool, Tanner, then so are you. The difference being I’m a hammer and you’re nothing more than a ninety-nine cent enema kit.”

“Ooh, tough words, Harv. Let’s just see who’s crying when this is all over and done.”

“All rise. The honorable Judge Foster presiding.”

Harvey rolled his eyes as stealthily as he could. Of course he would draw Judge Foster for potentially the most damaging case for Pearson Hardman that year. Thank God he wasn’t planning for this thing to go past the first inning.

“Gentlemen, are we ready to begin?” Judge Foster asked as he entered from his chambers. There was a noticeable stain on his robes, maybe blueberries or raspberries – it was hard to tell against the black fabric. “Mr. Specter, where is your co-counsel?”

“He’s sorting some things out, your honor. You know how it is with rookie associates.”

“Indeed. Mr. Tanner, you’ve opted to argue this case alone?”

“That’s correct, your honor.”

“Well, so be it. When I first embarked on my legal career in 1969 it was mandatory for everyone to work in tandem, but I suppose the pocket rotary phones and nanocombobulators everyone is using now have changed all of that,” the elderly man lamented. “Ahh, Mr. Hardman, don’t think I can’t see you sitting there in the gallery. To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”

“I’m here at the insistence of Mr. Specter, your honor,” the name partner answered quietly. Harvey could feel the tension between him and Tanner; now he just needed to give the two a chance to speak to one another.

“Excellent, just excellent. We should schedule a golf game; I’d love to catch up with you about what you’ve been doing on your sabbatical…Where were we?”

The bailiff cleared his throat and pointed to the stack of documents waiting in front of the judge.

“Ahh, yes; thank you, Charles. So a trial is unavoidable then? No chance for a settlement…how unfortunate. Any motions, gentlemen?”

“I have a prospective list of witnesses, your honor,” Tanner began with a pleased grin. “There’s a copy in front of you.”

“I see two here for you. What’s this other one?”

“Other one?”

“I decided to be courteous and revise Tanner’s witness list, your honor.”

“But I don’t see any names here. What is the meaning of this, Mr. Specter?”

“Oh, it’s very simple. I removed all the people who had been placed under duress by Mr. Tanner and his firm, as well as those to whom he suggested a share of payout might be coming. Then I had my associate inform all the other witnesses who had volunteered to testify without the lure of payment about the ones who had been, and they withdrew their services.”

“Those are ludicrous allegations coming from a man who just admitted he spoke to my witnesses without my knowledge.”

For all his mock assurance, Tanner sure was sweating.

“Witnesses are not clients, Mr. Tanner. That said, these _are_ serious allegations, Mr. Specter. Where is the proof of your claims?- some affidavits at the very least.”

“Well, it’s a little funny, your honor.” Harvey struggled to make himself seem flustered; for a man whose game was cold as Svalbard on New Years, it was a hard role to play. Thankfully he had Harold for inspiration. “I have some of the documents with me, but I spilled coffee on most of them. My associate was supposed to bring a fresh set, but he forgot his briefcase in the car. Might I request a five minute recess?”

“That’s the worst hail mary throw I’ve ever heard, your honor. If he doesn’t have proof this minute then he’s guilty of slander, with all of you as witnesses.”

“I’m willing to give Mr. Specter the benefit of the doubt based on his past actions. That said, if you don’t have proof to substantiate your claims in exactly five minutes, I will recommend that you be censured.”

The thud of the gavel resounded through the room, and Harvey waited for Tanner and Hardman to take the bait. He was reasonably sure they would fall for his trap, as hyenas rarely had the foresight to question a corpse before descending on it.

Still, everything was riding on Harold.

\-----

“What exactly am I looking at here? Some kind of prelude to a pornographic film?” Judge Sneiderman asked as rotated the picture he held in his hands. “Miss…?”

“Paulsen. Donna Paulsen, your honor.”

“I object!”

“Too bad I’m not a lawyer, Scottie. You see, that man there is Liam Johnson, the owner of Nutrition Cornucopia, one of Dirastacco’s leading competitors across the nation. Here gentlemen,” she beckoned to the assembled executives of the latter company, “I’ve got some copies for you.”

“You don’t have any audio! You don’t know what we discussed.”

“So you admit these pictures are authentic? That you had a conversation with your client’s main rival?” Louis demanded, rising to join Donna.

“I…yes, but we didn’t talk about anything confidential.”

“Do you expect us to believe that? Especially given that I also managed to capture you with a number of other grocery chain bigwigs…those would be exhibits two through seven, your honor.”

“You can tone down the lawyer speak, Miss Paulsen,” the judge advised as he flipped through the other pictures in front of him.

“It doesn’t matter what you believe.”

“She’s right,” Donna commented, turning back to the three men in the gallery. “It only matters what these three men think. Gentlemen?”

One of the three executives was already dialing a number into his phone – the CEO, most likely. Mike didn’t know where he should be, so he remained seated and watched as Scottie’s smooth exterior cracked under pressure.

“I would never do something like that!”

“You’ve done worse to better people, Scottie, and don’t you try to deny it.”

“That has nothing to do with you,” Scottie growled under her breath.

“Order! Order, Miss Scott! Everyone will take his or her seat. Gentlemen, in light of what has just been revealed, I will suspend proceedings for the day so that you can recalibrate an appropriate strategy. That said, it is in my opinion that you should seek out a mutually-acceptable settlement with the complainants with all due speed.”

“H-he says he wants to speak with you,” one of the men announced as he held the phone out toward the female attorney. Mike couldn’t hear what he said, but from her reaction it couldn’t have been good.

“Who are you going to get to represent you for the rest of the trial?!” Scottie pleaded into the receiver, just in time to hear the click of the other party ending the call. “Damnit, I need to talk to Darby.”

“That wasn’t even for Harvey, Scottie; it was for me. And you’re lucky I’m not going to have you investigated for malpractice!” Donna shouted at the lawyer’s back as she fled the courtroom. “So how was I for my first case?”

“Better than all of our useless associates,” Louis praised, earning a roll of the eyes from Mike. The junior partner adjusted his face back to stern before turning to the trio on the other side of the room. “Gentleman, we’re willing to offer you our initial proposal, plus legal expenses and a forty percent of annual pay bonus for each and every employee involved in this lawsuit. I guarantee you it’s the only chance for a settlement you’re going to get. Once I leave this room, we’ll see this case through to a verdict – which I assure you will not be in your favor.”

“We’ll need to-”

“I’m getting up, gentlemen.”

“…Deal.”

“Good. Have your boss come to our building today at 5:00 today so that we can sign the paperwork. If he doesn’t show, I’ll slap you with a bad faith indemnity.”

Leyla ran out from the gallery and hugged first Louis and then Mike. Her embrace was so tight and she tossed the blond so hard as she bounced up and down that he thought he might become nauseated.

“I knew Jessica wasn’t wrong when she said I could trust you to get justice for us! Even if you do look like you belong in university…”

With a click, Donna immortalized the moment the large woman planted a kiss on his forehead.

Mike wasn’t sure if Harvey was going to like looking at that picture.

“Donna, this was supposed to be my big win,” Mike grumbled as his co-counsel and client left for the office. “And we were going to win this case even if you hadn’t gotten Scottie thrown off of it.”

“True, but I did save you the agony of waiting for a verdict. Besides, you’ve still got a part to play up on the third floor, tuba boy.”

“…You talked to Grammy? She said she came by the office just to surprise me.”

“Technically, that’s correct, since I knew she was coming.”

“How much did she tell you? Wait, crap – the rest of the plan! Is it starting already? I thought Harvey was going to take longer to spring the trap?”

“Nope, it’s happening right now,” Donna corrected as she grabbed Mike’s wrist and pulled him toward the doors to the hallway. “I’ve got to admit it’s pretty hilarious. He’s being all confident now, but you should have seen his face when he saw Grammy sitting in his office. He hit out in the copy room like an ten-year-old avoiding a book report.”

“ _What_?”

“I had to trick him just to make him go talk to her. Watch your step on the stairs, BTW.”

“Hold up. Harvey and Grammy talked?”

“I think you’d better ask him that. It’ll be good motivation for you boys not to screw up your part of the plan.”

Mike cleared the last step and halted in time to not plow into the backside of Harvey’s assistant. Her boss was waiting outside the men’s room, Cameron Dennis staring at him from the other side. Daniel Hardman emerged from within after what felt like an eternity.

\-----

“Good chat, Daniel?”

“Excuse me? What’s going on here?”

“We’re just a bit curious on what you and the lawyer who’s suing your firm were doing for four solid minutes in the bathroom together is all,” Cameron Dennis noted as he checked his watch. “I didn’t hear the sink, so either you’re completely unsanitary or you weren’t there out of bodily necessity.”

“This is really none of your business.”

“Except that it is my business, because you’re trying to tank my firm.”

“Whose name is on the door, Specter? Oh that’s right, it’s MY FIRM. I rebuilt it from top to bottom and whatever you think is irrelevant; you’re one senior partner, and the amount of equity you have in MY firm is miniscule,” Hardman lectured. “And don’t think I came down here today just for you. I did it for the sake of maintaining what’s mine.”

“It’s my firm, Daniel,” Jessica corrected as she emerged from a room on the other side of the hallway. “And while I was rebuilding it after we ejected that bunch of frat boys who nearly drove it into the ground, you did little more than plunder it.”

“That’s quite an accusation, Jessica. Are you prepared to pay the price necessary to expand on it?”

Harvey shuddered when he saw Jessica flash a particularly gleeful smile in return. That was definitely the one she’d had when she fired three of his fellow partners.

“Harvey, would you invite our other guest out to join Daniel?”

“Gladly,” the brunet affirmed and thusly banged his fist against the bathroom door. “Tanner, there’s no point keeping your reptilian hide in there.”

“You’ve got nothing on either of us.”

“Don’t I?” Jessica taunted with a twist of her head. “Harvey, fetch our final friend, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

“You said you checked under the stalls!” Daniel shouted at Tanner as the sound of a sink became audible. Both men turned as Harold emerged a moment later, still wiping his hands with a paper towel. “Where in God’s name was he hiding?”

“When I get a bad case of the runs, I push my feet up against the door,” the curly-haired associate informed, throwing up one of his legs to demonstrate. “I always feel like I might blast off into space if I don’t.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. We’re supposed to be afraid of this complete moron?” the second name partner demanded of Jessica. “The first thing I’m going to do when I get back is convene a meeting of the senior partners so I can fire each and every one of you.”

“Daniel, you’re never setting foot in my office again,” Harvey smirked. “Harold, should we let them listen to the tape?”

“Oh, I think they remember everything they said in there. Daniel paying Tanner millions of dollars and giving him confidential documents to launch a lawsuit against the firm, Tanner merging his firm in Boston with Pearson Hardman and becoming managing partner of the branch office there, and even Daniel asking about whether Tanner knew someone who’d be able to plant cocaine in Jessica’s home and office to get her imprisoned,” Harold replied diligently as he retrieved something from his pocket. “I got it all on my trusty dictaphone here. Don’t worry though, I only operated it with my clean hand.”

“Why would you even have something like that? This is obviously entrapment.”

“Afraid not, Daniel,” Jessica cut in from across the way. “Louis required all the associates to purchase dictaphones so that they could give themselves criticism when he isn’t available to do so. Mike, do you have yours?”

“Oops. I must have left it back in my desk; guess I’ll just have to remember to remind myself to remember to carry it with me at all times from now on then,” Mike stated, finishing with his trademark cheeky salute. Harvey just resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the blond for that.

“Seeing as you were the one to hire Louis in the first place, Daniel, I guess you dun hoist yourself on your own petard.”

“You goddamn moron. If you hadn’t stolen back the money you paid me to lodge this phony lawsuit we wouldn’t be in this mess!” Tanner growled as he tried to take a swing at the name partner, only to have Cameron Dennis catch him at the elbow.

“I’m the moron?! We still haven’t heard what’s on that tape and you’re already confessing! When I called you to do this for me it was because I believed you knew how to commit a crime properly! Only after did I learn of all the bribes you gave in Boston, each and every one of which is a potential three-year ticket to a prison cell!”

“Who’s the one blabbing about crimes now?”

“Which is why I’m happy to announce to the two of you that I’ve contacted the Suffolk County District Attorney. I wouldn’t want him to miss out on the chance for some good publicity – I mean going after two rich, and yet petty, crooks? Total pay dirt,” Dennis bragged as several police officers emerged from around corners to charge and arrest the pair. “Jessica, I had a blast putting every file you gave me to good use, not to mention the proximate evidence Harvey was able to find, but I hope you didn’t forget about my investigation of Pearson Hardman.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Jessica affirmed, the smile only growing wider.

“What are you talking about?” Dennis asked as the police officers halted their frog-march of the two soon-to-be-former lawyers and turned back to the small crowd.

“You said you checked every document we gave you, didn’t you?”

“Not personally, but yes.”

“Hmm. Mike, would you help me explain the conundrum we’re currently in?”

“There was a file in those boxes we gave you which proves that Daniel couldn’t have paid Tanner to commit any crimes. It made that fact glaringly obvious, and I can say that with overwhelming confidence since, y’know, I wrote it.”

“Pretty good idea for a rookie, huh, Dennis?”

“One document can easily get overlooked by a team of junior prosecutors. These two should have had no problem discovering it and exonerating themselves during the course of their trial. The bigger issue is that fabricating evidence is obstruction of justice and therefore a felony. Boys, you should take him away as well.”

“They won’t be taking him anywhere,” Jessica stated, causing a bead of sweat to drip down Dennis’ forehead. “Mike, please continue.”

“Your underlings might have overlooked the file, sure, but it should still be in the box. I mean, there’d be no reason for it to not be there, right?”

“That’s…I can think-”

“Because if that file isn’t in the box it came in, that amounts to obstruction of justice as well, whether it was a simple clerical error or part of a conspiracy to convict innocent men. And God forbid you can’t produce it,” Mike threatened as he leaned back against the wall (okay, now Harvey was sure the blond was trying to be cool; dork). “Well that would pretty much do you in.”

“Even if someone buried it, I was neither involved in nor had any knowledge of it,” Dennis claimed.

“Hah, good luck with that lie,” Tanner jabbed like he wasn’t getting arrested himself.

“I bet you thought you were a genius every time you got away with burying evidence,” Jessica guessed as the door behind her opened again. “When in reality, you were just lucky you hadn’t decided to go up against me. Oh, and the reason the police won’t be arresting Mike is that he got clearance from the DOJ to go ahead with his plan. Not to mention the FBI.”

“What?!”

“I’m agent Peter Burke of the FBI’s white collar task force, Mr. Dennis,” Harvey’s poker buddy announced as he appeared from the room where Jessica had been waiting, two of his underlings in tow. “You’re under arrest for obstruction of justice, conspiracy to obstruct justice, and conspiracy to commit perjury, one count each.”

“And that’s just for starters,” Neal continued as he stepped out from behind the older man. “As we speak, we’re getting one of those doohickeys that let’s us look at all of your files.”

“A subpoena, Neal.”

“Right. And if what Jessica’s said holds any weight at all, you’ll be lucky to see the sun again anywhere except from behind a row of metal bars.”

“Not to mention the wiretap.”

“Serves you right, you pompous dick,” Daniel sneered only to have the officer restraining him tug him backwards by his handcuffs. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten you, Jessica.”

“Why do you think I did this at the courthouse, Daniel?” the managing partner asked as two FBI agents cuffed Dennis. “They removed all the phones last year, and the furniture is all bolted to the floor. You wouldn’t want an attempted assault and battery charge tacked onto everything else you’re facing, would you?”

“Bitch.”

“A bitch who kicks ass,” Jessica corrected. “In the words of my associate, you three are total weaksauce.”

“I won’t forget this!”

“You forgot to blame the meddling kids, too!” Mike mocked as the trio of slimeballs was led off to the elevators on the far end of the building.

“Wait, how did you guys know I would be in the bathroom long enough to tape those two?” Harold asked with a puzzled expression as he handed his Dictaphone to one of the departing FBI agents.

Jessica turned to Harvey, who turned to Mike…who turned to Donna.

“Fine. I might have told Mike’s grandmother to bake you a cookie laced with laxatives,” the redhead explained guiltily. “But I did it with your best interests in mind.”

“…What?”

“Harold, you don’t perform well under pressure. I mean, you are like the dictionary reference picture for not performing well under pressure…so I thought that if we let you do what needed to be done in a way that kept you from knowing just how important it was…”

“That I’d be less likely to screw up?”

“The important thing is that your instincts were right. We didn’t tell you to catch those two on tape, but you did. In fact, you were able to catch them without knowing they were headed your way and without even letting them know that you were there.”

“You did good, kid,” Harvey agreed.

At that simple compliment Harold broke out into an enormous smile and leapt at his boss gleefully. Harvey turned to Mike, but the blond shot him a look that said he’d better return the gesture, even if it was just this once.

So in the presence of the most important people in his life, Harvey Specter hugged his rookie associate.

It felt weird.

“Now that you’re super regular, how about I take you out for some dinner to make things right? I promise I won’t make you eat Indian on a funky digestive system,” Donna offered, and Harold pulled away to join her in descending the stairs.

“Gentlemen, we will have our talk tomorrow morning,” Jessica instructed as she began to follow them.

“No.”

“No?”

“We’re going to talk about this,” Harvey began as he pointed to Mike, “tonight.”

“You are aware that I’m granting you a stay of execution on account of my good mood, aren’t you?” Jessica warned as she folded her arms.

“Tonight.”

“Very well. I will see you in my office, tonight, at ten o’clock sharp,” the managing partner decided before disappearing down the stairs.

“Harvey, are-”

“She’s in a good mood, which makes now the perfect time to strike.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask you,” Mike chided him. “What I want to know is whether or not you’re wearing…y’know. I didn’t see you get dressed this morning, and-”

Harvey rolled his eyes at the request, but he figured the blond had earned a reward for his own part in their winning maneuver. Glancing down both ends of the hallway to make sure no one was watching, he approached Mike and pulled on the waistband of his trousers enough to make the black lace underneath visible.

“How did it feel to kick Tanner’s butt in those?”

“Breezy. Breezy and disturbingly comfortable.”

“So you’ll wear them every time you’re going to wrap up a case?”

“God no.”

“C’mon! That could be our post-trial ritual or something.”

“No.”

“Ugh, you wimp.”

“What did you just call me?” Harvey asked as he walked Mike back up against the wall.

“You were so scared of Grammy you hid in the _copy room_ , Harvey. I’ve never seen you set foot in there before in my entire time at Pearson Hardman.”

“At least I won my case on my own. You had to have your grandmother win yours for you.”

“What are you talking about?” Mike asked as Harvey pinned the blond’s arms to either side of him on the wall.

“Did you think you were the one who got Robert Zane to remove himself from the Dirastacco’s case?”

“Grammy…she…no way.”

“Nothing more than rookie luck,” the brunet taunted as he took another cautionary glance down the hallway, leaning in when he was satisfied no one was watching. “Though I will admit this is the first time I’ve ever heard of a lawyer getting saved by ‘grandma ex machina’.”

“Bullshit. Anyone judging that case would have ruled in our favor after my brilliant cross-examination.”

“…Shit,” Harvey cried as he pulled away.

“What did I say?!”

“‘Judging’. I’ve still got to go back and explain everything to Judge Foster; c’mon, rookie.”

“I don’t even get a kiss?!” Mike cried petulantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. THIS was the most difficult chapter to write, and even now after countless edits and rewrites I'm still not entirely satisfied. However, I can say that I will post the final regular chapter and the epilogue during the course of this week.
> 
> Super super sorry...with a cherry on top.


	24. Triumph

“Late.”

“She said that to you, too?” Mike asked as he and Harvey plodded (nervously on the blond’s part, she could tell) toward the chairs of doom in front of Jessica’s desk.

“She still does,” the brunet replied as he narrowed his eyes at her.

“Mike, go wait outside. The adults will-”

“No, he’s a part of this.”

“Harvey, I already let you move this conversation to tonight. In case you didn’t notice, you’re not exactly in a position to be laying down terms,” Jessica scolded. “Mike, I’ll speak to you in a bit.”

“‘A bit’? So this won’t take long, then? Good, because I’ve got other matters-”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” the managing partner asked once her associate had reached Wendy’s empty desk. “I hire an associate and you don’t even let him finish a year before you’re turning him out for sex and trying to extract information from him.”

“Information which he gave willingly, or else I didn’t get it. Give Mike some credit, Jessica; he’s not a complete moron.”

“He is if he thought he could shack up with you and I wouldn’t find out. And you’re an even bigger imbecile, since you’re a partner – a senior partner, mind you – and should’ve known better than that.”

“Really, Jessica? Since when has Harvey Specter ever ‘known better than that’?”

Jessica shot her number two a questioning glance as she leaned back in her chair. She hadn’t had a good sparring match with the man in a few weeks, and she was out of practice.

“This violates the bylaws.”

“Bylaws written by Louis. _Louis_ , Jessica. I could find five loopholes in those stupid bylaws in the time it takes you to tear Hardman’s name off the wall in the lobby. Speaking of which, why is his name still up there?”

“Don’t try to change the topic, Harvey. No one is above the bylaws at Pearson…my firm.”

“So I suppose you keep track of whose case you’re working on down to the nearest minute? Because that’s bylaw 4.c, Addendum III,” the brunet recounted. “Donna dunks her tea at the improper forty-four beats per minute rhythm instead of the mandated thirty-six. That’s also a bylaw: 67.f.2.h, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You had _my associate_ recite the bylaws to you just so you could regurgitate them all over me? Because I know for a fact you have never so much as glanced at a single goddamn one of those sub-headings.”

“Knowing and proving are two different things.”

“And I taught you that line myself. What are you, a penguin?”

“Do penguins get out of observing the bylaws? If so, then yes,” Harvey nodded smugly.

The bastard.

“I could fire you right here and now. Lord knows, I’m already in the midst of drawing up papers to rid myself of one of the partners with equity; it wouldn’t take much effort to print out an additional copy while I’m at it.”

Harvey rolled his eyes at her but didn’t voice a response.

“ _I know what you're thinking, punk. You're thinking_ , "is Jessica finally going to can my ass?" _You've gotta ask yourself a question: ‘Do I feel lucky?’ Well, do ya, punk?_ ”

“Hey, reciting Eastwood was my specialty back when I worked at the DA’s office!” the brunet informed irritably as he pointed his thumb at his chest.

“You didn’t have the balls to pull off Eastwood then, and you still don’t now.”

_"Are you going to pull those pistols or whistle Dixie?"_

It wasn’t a half-bad impersonation, but Jessica made sure to give it a yawn.

“So you want me to fire you?”

“I want you to admit that you’re not going to fire me and then get to whatever deal you want to make with me. A, you put me through Harvard and it would be a waste to sack me. B, I’ve repaid that investment a hundred times over and I’ll do it another thousand if you let me do my job.”

“And which job is that?- bringing in clients or boning my associate?”

“C, my brother is romancing your assistant and it’ll get awkward if she ends up involved with the family member of an ex-employee.”

“Ahh, yes: Marcus. I swear, if there’s another Specter brother you’ve stashed away and he makes a move on me or my sister, I’ll have the whole damn clan rounded up and shipped air freight back to Scotland.”

“What is it you want from me, Jessica?”

“An explanation, for starters. Why Mike?”

“Why not Mike?”

“A question is not an explanation, Harvey,” she lectured. “For the past ten years you’ve been here, you’ve only brought models or actresses to company parties. They’re the only people you mention when we get to the topic of dating, in fact.”

“I’m not allowed to change things up?”

“Are you afraid of getting older, Harvey? Is that why you’re throwing yourself at my associate?” she postulated. “Or is it…”

“Is it what?” her former mentee pushed with a new note of anxiety.

“Is it that you were afraid to date someone who was…is your intellectual peer? That after a certain someone you weren’t ready to face the possibility of not being the one who got bored with the other? That you couldn’t keep up with Scottie and you didn’t want to risk-”

“That’s way out of line!” Harvey cried as he abandoned his seat and walked towards the far wall. “I may not know the bylaws by heart, but I know you don’t have the right to delve into my personal life.”

“Except when you clutter my professional relationship with my associate by wining and dining him.”

“I’m not-”

“What if I made you choose?” she cut in quickly, afraid he might abandon their discussion and do something really reckless.

“Choose between what?”

“Mike…or your name on the wall beside mine.”

“You’d really do that?” His face was still turned away from hers; he must have been afraid of how much emotion he’d reveal to her.

“You’re not the only unorthodox one here, Harvey. And it’s not like you have much recourse, anyway. I mean, you could threaten to tell the new DA about how I hired a kid who doesn’t have a bachelor’s degree as my associate, but then Mike’d end up in prison with me.”

Harvey turned to her after a moment’s contemplation; he’d done his best to restore his stony mug, but there was a lingering look of pleading in his eyes.

“…Mike.”

“What?”

“If it came down to one or the other, I’d choose Mike.”

“When we first sat down and had a real chat all those years ago, you said your name was going to end up on that wall no matter what. You were certain of it then, and you want me to believe that you’d give up that dream just for Mike Ross?”

“I would.”

“ _Why_?”

“Because…”

“Because is not an answer.”

“It’s…” he sighed, staring right at her before continuing, “because I love him, Jessica.”

\-----

Mike ran back into Jessica’s office as soon as he heard the loud thud from within the glass walls. His boss was lying on the floor, her face wracked with a mixture of what seemed to be astonishment and shock.

“Are you okay?”

“What I’m about to say has lost some of its meaning from overuse,” the managing partner started as she carefully climbed back into her chair. “But when I say, ‘I never saw this day coming’, I really mean it.”

“Huh? What happened?”

“Nothing, Mike. Is it alright if he stays in here now?” the brunet asked. The question’s target was still a bit out-of-sorts.

“Yes. The next questions I have are for the both of you, anyway.”

“What else do you need to know that I haven’t adequately answered?”

“I want to be sure that this won’t become another Monica Eton matter, for one thing.”

“Monica who?”

“Mike, do you expect me to take you to Tiffany’s for our anniversary?” Harvey asked him out of nowhere. “Do I need to pay for us to go on monthly exotic trips so that you’ll stay interested in me? Paris? Hong Kong?”

“What is going on in here? Did the Scarecrow pump gas into this room while I was out or something?” Mike asked. He’d been expecting Jessica to demand that he form a valid argument that would allow Harvey and him to skirt the bylaws, not…questions about…jewelry. “You both know how cheap I am – I mean, you saw me in the suit I wore for my ‘interview’. Hell, I’m fine with store brand generic cereal.”

“Ugh. That’s disgusting, Mike,” Harvey judged him without bothering to turn his eyes away from Jessica. “If anyone’s going to rack up the credit card charges, it’ll be me, Jessica. And unlike Miss Eton, I can pay my own bills.”

“And if this doesn’t work out, what then? Am I supposed to trust that you’ll be able to fulfill your job requirements in the same office as each other? If not, who would I have to fire?”

“That won’t happen,” Mike jumped in, not wanting to put Harvey on the spot. “I might mope, but you know you can kick my ass back into getting-shit-done mode. You already did it after Harvey ruled against me in the mock trial, and then again when Trevor socked me in the face.”

“I wouldn’t have to worry about the two of you sharing a long, uncomfortable elevator ride together?”

“There are four of them. I’d just take another one,” he countered.

“And you, Harvey?”

“…Wait a minute.”

Mike caught Jessica’s lips begin to curl at the corners and wondered if she’d been anticipating what Harvey was about to say.

“You’ve known about us longer than you’ve let on,” Harvey claimed as he folded his arms. “Did…did you…”

“Did I what, Harvey?”

“Did you set this up from the start? Did you hire Mike because you knew that I’d…that I’d-”

“That you’d start a stupid, reckless relationship with him, with the crazy notion that you could keep it hidden from me indefinitely? Am I smart enough for a maneuver like that?”

“WHAT?”

“There’s no way you could’ve known about what happened in the elevator, unless Donna told you herself. She was in on this, too?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“When you showed up at my condo, I thought it was the end of everything. Mike, my job, law…but you hardly seemed interested in it beyond some necessary outrage. At the time I just took you for being focused on cleaning up the attacks against the firm…”

“That’s dirty,” Mike uttered as he tried to recall all the moments since he walked into the interview room at the hotel. “Did you hire me just to set me up with him? Is that all this was?”

“I wouldn’t have hired you as an associate if I thought you were nothing more than a hot decoy for one of my partners, Mike. I definitely wouldn’t have made you head counsel on your first real case if you were an airhead.”

“So…you did set this up?”

“Assuming I did, just for the moment…what would you do about it? Break up with each other just to spite me?”

Mike turned to Harvey, whose concern had dissolved into mild vexation.

“This was another one of your lessons – the value of a real connection or some schmaltzy schtick like that? I’m not dumping Mike just to help you prove your point, FYI.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

“So then, what? What was all this for?”

“You’ll get it eventually, Harvey. But if you want me to be okay with this relationship, you’ll have to abide by some ground rules. First, Mike stays on as my associate. There’s no way in hell I’m letting anyone get involved with someone directly above or below him in the chain of command.”

“Hah, so that’s what this really is, huh? You’re trying to trick me into letting you have Harold?” Harvey chuckled as he relaxed in his chair. “Told you he had the makings of a senior partner in him.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Jessica swore. “Second, your bad behavior will have ramifications for Mike.”

“Hey, no fair!”

“Define that second clause a little better for me.”

“Umm, hello – you can’t punish me for something Harvey-”

“From now on, pull some crap without at least notifying me first and I will send Mike to a client meeting in Seattle. Or Santiago. Or Shanghai. I have the rolodex to back that threat up, and we both know it.”

“That’s not- I don’t even have a passport!”

“Does that work both ways?”

“Hell no. All I need to do to punish Mike for his own actions is throw a stack of briefs on his desk and make him pull an all-nighter. Or let Louis have him for a week. Or-”

“You can’t just pass me around like a football!”

“I’m fine with that. Anything else?”

“Third, I’d better not hear about any shenanigans in the office.”

“Okay, well that is a step too-”

“Non-negotiable.”

“…Fine. Is that it?”

“Fourth, get out. I need to speak to Mike alone.”

Harvey shot Mike a supportive glance and slowly abandoned him to the managing partner. Jessica cleared her throat when the door closed and made a point of futzing with the intercom on her desk.

“Is this the part where you ask me whether everything is consensual?”

“No, it’s the part where I conduct contract negotiations with you,” she corrected as she grabbed one of the folders lying on the heap beside her laptop. “Read this over carefully and let me know if you have any objections.”

“What?”

“Did you forget how to read in the last five minutes?”

“I don’t forget anything,” Mike groaned as he rubbed his late-night stubble and refocused on the papers in his hand. “This locks us into a two-year employment period unless voided voluntarily by both parties.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Jessica, you have all the power in our relationship. If you wanted to fire me tomorrow, I wouldn’t have any recourse that wouldn’t also screw me…and I know that associates don’t generally get any sort of job security, so don’t try to tell me otherwise. Why are weakening your own position like this?”

“Why don’t you put that brain of yours to good use and answer your own question.”

“…And a non-compete clause? Seriously, like I’m going to go to another firm with my fake CV and the degree you fabricated for me?”

“I’d look remiss to anyone in HR if I didn’t toss that in there,” the managing partner muttered as she examined the contents of another folder.

“Is this your way of letting me know that you like having me around?” Mike cracked as he leaned in to flash his teeth at his boss. “Are you worried that I’m going to leave?”

“I was earlier, but after what Harvey said…well, it’s not like I had time to draw up a different contract for you. Besides, you earned it; speaking of which, you’ll notice there’s a bonus listed in clause six on the second page for winning Leyla’s case.”

“Twenty-five thousand dollars?!”

“Not enough?”

“No…it’s…can I ask for something else instead?”

“That’s the general idea of a negotiation, Mike.”

“I want a vacation for me…and Harvey: five days at the end of next month.”

“Do you know how much money Harvey brings in daily?”

“No.”

“Forget it. It’s actually kind of cute that you think it’s an even trade for me to let him off for five days for a measly twenty-five grand. Hell, even one day would be…never mind,” Jessica smirked. “But what about you? You’re fine not having that much money in your checking account?”

“Umm, the salary listed here is more than enough to keep Grammy in the care facility and me out of instant noodles. That’s all that really matters.”

“And spending time with Harvey outside of the office?”

“…Yeah, that too,” Mike blushed.

“Fine. I’ll amend that and have it waiting on your desk for you to sign. Unless there’s something else?”

“About Kyle. He’s a jerk, yeah, but he deserves a second chance to get on the partner track. I’d like to recommend that you bring him back, assuming we can get Hardman to admit he was the one who ordered him to trespass into Zane’s office.”

“You’d go out of your way to help someone you don’t like?”

“Hey, I’d be a total hypocrite if I wrote someone off for making a stupid mistake in his past. Speaking of which, thank you, Jessica. I haven’t had the chance to tell you-”

“Not necessary, Mike,” she stopped him as she reached down to the bottom drawer on her desk. “Besides, I have one last favor I need to ask of you before I let you leave for the night.”

“Which is?”

“Follow me,” she ordered as she revealed the contents of the drawer: two crowbars. “I’ve kept these here for five years just for this very moment. They’re not as enigmatic as the can opener, but I hope you don’t think any less of me for it.”

“Are we about to do what I think we’re about to do?”

“Maybe the reason people don’t give you straight answers is because you ask such stupid questions, rookie.”

“Ouch,” Mike replied as he opened the door for his boss. She waved Harvey over and led them down the hallway toward the lobby; Mike got a kick out of the grin on the older man’s face as he caught sight of the demolition tools.

“Ladies first, boys.”

“Hold on, lemme get my phone ready,” Harvey requested as he clicked on the camera app.

“Psh, I’ve held back for way too long already,” Jessica groaned as she handed Mike one of the tools and corrected her stance by the ‘H’ on the wall. “Ready?”

“Let ‘er rip!”

“Take this, you back-stabbing piece of shit!” Jessica cried as she pried off the silver letter with a powerful downward thrust. It clattered to the floor, bent in the middle so that it looked more like an ‘X’. “Damn that felt good. You’re up next, Specter.”

“No, I think I’ll let Mike have a go first. C’mon, rookie.”

Mike stepped forward and rested the end of the crowbar on the peak of the ‘A’, halting to pose for a picture. That completed, he pulled as hard as he could…

Unfortunately the bar slipped and Mike barely managed to avoid collapsing head-first into the wall. His relief gave way to humiliation when he heard the burst of laughter from both of the people behind him.

“It’s harder than it looks.”

“Please, Mike. I did it on my first go – in stilettos, no less.”

Mike raised up the crowbar again and aimed it at the side of the letter this time, prying it with enough force to send it flying into the door of one of the elevators.

“You’re paying to have that scuff buffed out,” his boss promised as she examined the spot where it made contact. “But a hole in two isn’t too terrible. Harvey?”

“Way ahead of you,” the brunet called as he exchanged his phone for Mike’s crowbar and started for the ‘R’.

“No, wait. Leave that one for the handyman…who knows, we might have use for it someday soon.”

“I could ask you what you mean,” Harvey guessed as he switched to the ‘D’, “but I’m too eager to get this damn satanic scrawl into the dumpster.” With a huff he sent the thing blasting along the same trajectory as the previous victim, leaving Mike just enough time to get the action shot.

“Go ahead and finish the rest.”

“My pleasure. It’s not like he’s a real ‘man’, anyway,” the brunet assured, double-handing two of the remaining offenders in one go. He wrenched the ‘N’ off slowly, however, making sure to bend it into an unrecognizable heap before ending its torment.

“I’d break out some champagne, but I don’t want a hangover for the emergency partners’ meeting I’m calling tomorrow,” Jessica lamented. “ _If there is going to be any shooting, I've got to get my rest._ ”

 _“Nothing wrong with shooting as long as the right people get shot,”_ Harvey observed as he pressed the button for the lift.

 _“You see, in this world there’s two kinds of people, my friend: Those with loaded guns, and those who dig,”_ Mike added.

Harvey and Jessica’s pleased expressions did not escape his notice.

\-----

To: Donna (212)-XXX-XXXX

Sent: 10:53 PM

_Fun’s over, I’m afraid._

 

From: Donna (212)-XXX-XXXX

Received: 10:57 PM

_You told them?!_

 

To: Donna (212)-XXX-XXXX

Sent: 11:01 PM

_Harvey managed to figure it out…with just a little prodding. Head’s up: he knows you were in on it the whole time._

 

From: Donna (212)-XXX-XXXX

Received: 11:03 PM

_The only thing he's going to do is wear a green tie with a lavender shirt. Oh, and try to make me go into the file room again, as if that'll happen._

\-----

“I’m glad we were all able to find the time to meet this morning,” Jessica began once Richard finally stopped hemming and hawing over which Danish he was going to take from the plate in the middle of the conference table. “Let’s make this quick so that we can get some work done this morning.”

“Question: who took Hardman’s name off the wall?”

“I’m looking into that, Louis. At this moment it seems like it may have been an overzealous janitor or one of the associates who had a grudge with him,” she lied with a smile. “Trying to narrow down which of Daniel Hardman’s enemies would do a terrible thing like that might take until the end of time, though. Now, to the matter at hand…”

“But why is there still an ‘R’ hanging up by itself?” Carol asked between mouthfuls of her doughnut.

“I looked through the bylaws last night, and I’ve discovered that we’ll only need to buy out the equity Daniel put into the firm at its valuation when he did so. I know some of you were worried about not having enough cash on hand, but at $14,500 instead of $35,000 a piece, we should all be able to manage.”

“And why are we giving him any money at all?” Louis jabbed again.

“Because if we don’t, he’ll have legitimate grounds to file a claim for damages. The bylaws are clear that we can void his contract and terminate his employment based on his confession, but we can’t simply write off the funds he paid into the firm. Besides, you’re a junior partner, Louis, so you don’t need to pay anything at all.” She noticed Harvey dragging a red pen through a stick-figure man with bushy hair and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “While I’m on the topic, I need to have you vote on whether or not to fire Hardman. All in favor?”

Every hand in the room shot up, even Louis’ as he struggled to open the wrapper of his bran bar.

“Excellent. That was really just a formality, but I wanted to get it out of the way before sending him the documentation I drew up last night.”

“So that’s done?” Harvey asked as he reddened out the man on his notepad.

“I want everyone’s money in the firm’s expenditure account by noon tomorrow so that we can wire it before the end of the week. Now in other news, I’d like to bring up a more…personal topic-”

“Let me save everyone the suspense: I’m dating Mike,” Harvey admitted flatly as he reached for a blue pen.

“That’s forbidden!” Louis shouted from the other side of the table.

“I was hoping to address the issue with a little more tact,” Jessica noted with displeasure at the brunet, “but so much for that. Harvey came to me last night and told me as much, and I think this is a good opportunity to broach the issue of our non-fraternization policy.”

“It’s very clear. People who date co-workers get censured, if not fired outright.”

“We also have strict anti-sexual harassment policies, but that didn’t stop you from having lunch in the same restaurant as someone every day while she worked here,” Harvey observed.

“That has nothing to do with what you’re doing!”

“Gentlemen, please. It’s early and we all have billables to amass,” Jessica reminded as she took a sip of her tea. “Harvey, we won’t need you for the rest of the meeting. You can head on back to your office now.”

“Fine.”

“This is the part where we vote on whether to censure him, right?” Louis asked hopefully as the brunet shut the glass door behind him.

“Look, I know everyone here has been on the wrong end of Harvey Specter mucking about in at least one of your cases. He commandeered that Roper matter in Bankruptcy, found the loophole for the Pillatz inheritance hanging over Wills & Trusts, etcetera etecetera.”

“All in favor of censuring Harvey, raise your-”

“Louis, I call the votes. Not you,” she warned before turning back to everyone else. “His confession presents me with an opportunity to rein him in whenever he does something like that going forward. You’d just have to tell me that he was muscling in on your business, and I could inform him that I’ll send Mike out of town unless he stops.”

“Surely we’re going to censure him-”

“Of course that would come with the general caveat that my trust in your abilities would have to be repaid with results. Harvey can be a bit of a leashless dog at times, but does bring in settlements – settlements that pay your quarterly distribution checks.”

“We can’t just let him get away with this.”

“And I happen to know that many of you had dalliances with colleagues during your time here, and none of you had the honesty to fess up, so don’t go acting all high-and-mighty when it comes to passing judgment on Harvey.”

“We need to-”

“All in favor of censuring Harvey and denying yourselves any chance to keep a lid on his Bogarting?”

Only Louis’ hand rose.

“That’s what I thought. Carol, I’d like to nominate you to examine possible corrections or ameliorative sub-clauses for the anti-fraternization article in the bylaws.”

Jessica hoped she wouldn’t have to raise the issue of the woman’s hot and cold affair with the mailroom clerk the previous year.

“Of course.”

“The bylaws are my purview!”

“Everyone but Louis, meeting dismissed. There’s going to be a party in the library late this afternoon courtesy of one of my clients, so don’t fill up too much at lunch. Oh, and I meant what I said about that money being in the expense account – don’t make me send Wendy out to shake you down like a debt collector.”

With a mixture of grumbling and surprised pleasure at the short duration of the meeting, all of the other partners filed out of the conference room. Unfortunately, Louis didn’t look like he was willing to throw in the towel.

“I’d like to voice my grievances and let you know that I’m sick of the double-standards in play at this firm.”

“Duly noted.”

“Harvey gets away with murder, but when I make a single slip-up.”

“Harvey doesn’t get caught for the shit he does, and moreover, he more than makes up for it by winning. The other partners?- they tolerate him moving in on their business from time to time because they know he knows what he’s doing, Louis. You, on the other hand, tried to bail Kyle out of something Hardman roped him into doing and made it worse for everyone.”

“That doesn’t-”

“Yes, it does. Louis, I will _never_ make you a senior partner until the day you realize that the legal profession isn’t a one-off game. The actions we take have consequences; if all you ever care about is how this one moment will affect your career, you’ll end up alienating yourself.”

“But the rules have meaning!”

“Which is why we don’t abuse them. Because one of these days some guy with a rod stuck up his ass will call you out on violating clause whichever and no one will lift a finger to rescue you.”

“Mike certainly hasn’t earned-”

“Really, Louis? The only reason you didn’t blow up the case when Scottie pushed your buttons was because Mike kept you in check, and I didn’t hear that from him. That’s right, Louis,” she stressed as she rose and walked towards the junior partner, “he covered for you even when you were being impossible. That’s loyalty, and that’s why he deserves a favor in return.”

“Just because everyone else is so cavalier about enforcing the rules doesn’t mean I have to jump off the cliff with you.”

“Enough talking. Harvey has bailed you out, Mike has bailed you out, and I have bailed you out time after time. But if you can’t do this the easy way…there’s still the matter of the DA’s investigation into your actions.”

“…What?”

“I told the new acting DA that I would make sure you would never repeat your mistake if he promised leniency, and he agreed to drop the investigation this one time.”

“What’s the catch?”

“I’ve decided on my punishment: you and Kyle will deal with pro bono cases exclusively for the next two months.”

“No, no you can’t do that!”

“I’ll reassign your clients to Harvey for the duration, but I’ll have him tell them that you’re on a sabbatical or something innocuous.”

“Please, Jessica! For the sake of my billables, please don’t make me do pro bonos.”

“I will reduce it to one month only, and take your clients myself instead, if you agree to drop your stupid, self-defeating hostility to Harvey and Mike’s relationship and act like a decent human being.”

Louis gritted his teeth before acquiescing with a half-hearted nod.

“I’m going to do us both a favor and pretend that was a simple ‘yes’. Now don’t forget about the party this afternoon; you’re a guest of honor, after all,” Jessica reminded as she left for her office.

\-----

“Okay people, I feel sufficiently appreciated!” Mike cried as the crowd of women in the library continued to hug him. “Besides, this wasn’t a pro bono case, so you didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“We owe it to the man who got us everything we asked for and then some,” Leyla justified as she sipped her sparkling cider.

“It wasn’t just me, y’know. Louis and Jessica both played a major role in getting that settlement. Hey, Louis – it’s your turn to accept congratulatory hugs.”

“Umm, I’m fine with you-”

But the crowd of women had already migrated over to him. They weren’t quite as eager to hug the junior partner as they had been with Mike, but there were a few pats on the back and quite a number of handshakes.

“You have no idea how much of a positive effect this will have for our community. I’ve already had the ladies agree to donate a share of our winnings and invest it collectively to serve as a charitable fund for others. We also got messages from some of the other chains saying they’ve begun reassessing whether to open stores in the area.”

“You’re not afraid of gentrification?” Mike asked as he snatched one of the mini-sandwiches on a nearby table.

“Not for at least a decade. Washington Heights and East Harlem are hardly midway through their own transformations, and most of the Yuppies still stick to Riverdale. Speaking of which, do you know if that Hardman guy is still going to live in the area?”

“No clue, but if he does it’ll be a while before he’s out to enjoy the place.”

“Why are we spoiling the fete with discussion of my former business partner?” Jessica asked as she emerged from a lengthy conversation with two associates from M&A.

“Because I have a feeling you wouldn’t let us stop working at 4:00 on a weekday unless we were also celebrating his upcoming arraignment.”

“That’s ridiculous, Mike. Celebrating the downfall of a longtime member of this firm would be crass and tacky,” Jessica remarked, clinking her glass against Leyla’s. “Besides, I’m making you and Harold look good in the eyes of all your associate peers, not to mention the exhausted paralegals.”

“I thought I heard someone say that he’s off the market, though,” their client contested with a quirk of her brow.

“It’s already making the rounds?!”

“Donna put it up on the firm’s parody Twitter account…unless it was Wendy. Regardless, I’m sure Harvey is happy now that everyone knows to keep his or her hands off of you.”

“I need to get some air,” Mike groaned, excusing himself from the packed chamber and making his way toward the bullpen. He’d picked up on some funny looks, especially from Jeffrey and Devon…that probably meant a prank was not far in coming.

“Hey, sexy!”

“Donna, not that I mind, but I think we should at least try to be professional while there are clients in the office.”

“Psh, please. Clients we already got a fat settlement; what do they care if we make borderline inappropriate catcalls at each other?”

“Umm, setting that aside…what are you doing out here? And more importantly, where is the best closer in the city?”

“Someone has to be manning the phones while the receptionists are getting crunked in the daylight hour, and thus I got the call from Steve that someone would like to meet with you. You ready?”

“Who is it?”

“Quit whining and get your ass over to the lobby.”

“Okay, _doll face_.”

“You wish you could pull that off, kiddo. You. Wish.”

Mike made sure to walk backwards so that he could thrust his tongue out at the redhead on his way out of the bullpen. She returned the gesture until a phone’s ringing forced her to exit through the other side of the hall.

“Ahh, Mike Ross! I must admit its much nicer to meet you without the stress of a trial.”

“Mister Wayne? I haven’t seen you since the paramedics wheeled you out of the courtroom. Have you recovered fully since then?”

“I’m feeling quite a bit better, though that may just be the placebo effect of knowing that I’m taking the medication I should have started years ago. Not exactly good-as-new, but for someone my age you shouldn’t expect too much of your body.”

“And the company…”

“Good news and bad news. The bad news is that your prediction turned out to be correct: Wren strong-armed the board into forcing my resignation just before he got the axe, but the good news is that I’ve decided to open up my own consultancy firm. With my years of experience in the industry I’m making a couple times my old salary.”

“Dude, that’s awesome! Hey, we’re having a party over in the library for our clients, but I’m sure they’d love to have you join them in metaphorically pissing on the grave of that old racist’s career.”

“Perhaps in a bit. You see the reason why I’m here is actually that I’m looking for legal counsel for my agency.”

“Oh, well I’m sure Harvey Specter would take you on as a client. Or Louis: I mean, you’ve already seen how ferociously he fights for his clients in and out of court.”

The elderly man broke into a guffaw, throwing his arm back to pat down a rebellious tuft of hair. “I’m here to ask if you’d like to be my counsel, sonny.”

“…Me? That’s very flattering, Mister Wayne, but I’m only a first-year associate.”

“Ah, first-year, fifth-year – it doesn't make any difference to me. The way you choose a good employee is to see how they handle themselves in murky situations, and you were dynamite when I had my heart attack. I hear you ran circles around that Zane fellow, too.”

“You’d be my first client; are you comfortable with being a guinea pig?”

“Like I said, it’s intuition. Besides, I’m only getting things set up now, so there wouldn’t be too much for you to do beyond drawing up bylaws and reviewing our first set of contracts, and the paralegals here would probably be able to handle most of that.”

“I’d have to check with Jessica before signing on, and I’d want her to be listed as well, at least for the first six months or so to stop me from screwing up too badly.”

“I think you should worry more about your sales pitch, Mike,” his prospective client laughed again. “Most of the young associates at Zane’s firm were more dishonest about their capabilities than a used car salesman. “

“I’m a…different kind of lawyer, Mister Wayne,” Mike covered quickly. “If we’re going to be working together, is it alright if I call you by your first name? It starts with a ‘D’, right?- I remember seeing that on the witness list.”

“Oh, no that’s my middle initial. You see, I don’t like using my full name for official business,” the elderly man hesitated as he tried to explain. “My birth name is…Bruce. Mother was always a bit of a jokester.”

“I see,” Mike remarked as he tried to keep himself from laughing or jumping up in the air. “Well, I’ll try to keep it professional if I sign you on with me.”

“You called me dude when I first got here,” Bruce jabbed with a smile. “But ignore that for now – where’s that party, again?”

\-----

“Ready to leave, rookie?”

“Where have you been?”

“Client meetings,” Harvey muttered casually as he led the way back out of the firm’s library. It was only just past five and the party was still going strong, but they’d need to leave soon if they were going to make their destination on time. “Company parties are only any good once they get through a couple bars.”

“I had a good time, and I didn’t need to drink anything.”

“And I wish the other associates would hurry up and learn that skill,” Harvey commented as he spotted one of the frat boys already stumbling down the hallway. “Did you remember to bring an extra set of pants and shoes?”

“Yup,” Mike announced as he grabbed the garment bag from the chest of drawers at his cubicle. “Where are we headed, anyway?”

“Tell you in a minute,” Harvey ordered as he led the way to the partners’ bathroom, unlocking it when they arrived. “Hurry up and get changed.”

“Dang this place is swanky. It’s got gold fixtures and everything.”

“Stop admiring the fancy bathroom and change,” the brunet corrected, exchanging his trousers for a pair of jeans.

“Touchy, touchy,” Mike mocked as he loosened his tie and slipped it over his head. “Are you sure you didn’t skip the party because you were embarrassed at the thought of answering questions about our relationship?”

“I don’t get embarrassed, rookie.”

“Bullshit, Harvey. I’ve seen you blush.”

“You saw nothing,” he corrected, unbuttoning his shirt. “At least so far as anyone else at work is concerned.”

“Hey, you can trust me to keep things confidential.”

“Just checking, rookie,” he assured as he slipped on his faded jersey. He tossed the blond an extra one before he switched out his dress shoes for more comfortable footwear.

“Wait, we’re finally going to a baseball game together?”

“Not just a baseball game, babe – a Yankees vs. Red Sox match. What you are about to witness is the greatest culmination of American sports in nine innings. How does that jersey fit?”

“It’s a little loose, but it’ll do,” Mike assessed as he checked himself over in the mirror.

“You have no idea how sexy you are to me with that on,” Harvey whispered into the younger man’s ear as he stood behind him. “But you can pick out a smaller one when we get to the gift shop afterwards.”

“I’m going to have to last nine innings and a shopping quest before I can get you alone in your condo?”

“You’ll manage.”

Harvey dabbed some fresh gel on his hair and topped up his cologne before sticking both bottles into his suit bag and zipping it up. He caught Mike trying to will his erection back down as he sealed up his own pack.

“I’m going to sign my first client tomorrow; you’ll never guess who it is.”

“A Z-list celbrity?”

“Not just someone famous. I got motherfucking Batman to make me his lawyer.”

“What?” Harvey questioned as he opened the door of the bathroom and allowed the younger man to pass.

“Bruce Wayne, one of the execs who left Dirastacco’s, wants me to rep his new consultancy agency. Admit it: you’re crazy jealous.”

“I advise two Clark Kents.”

“Hah. I laugh at your pathetic attempt to equate Superman with the greatness that is Batman.”

“I also represent Chris Evans, as in _the_ Chris Evans.”

“You’re bluffing,” Mike claimed as they waited at the elevator bank.

“Nope. Maybe if you’re good I’ll get him to sign his autograph for you.”

“Is he on your speed dial?”

“Negative. I’m still a bit upset with him about that last _Captain America_ entry, although _The Avengers_ helped a lot.”

“Well I’m not giving you credit for him until I see or hear some proof, stud,” Mike declared as he stepped into the lift and pressed the button for the lobby. Harvey used the blond’s momentary distraction to pin him to the wall. “Hey!”

“Just like old times, huh?”

“I thought we agreed we weren’t going to get freaky for the entertainment of the security team?”

“There’s nothing freaky with this,” Harvey defended as he pressed his lips to Mike’s.

The kiss only ended when the doors opened.

“Have a good night, you two,” Steve called as they hurried to the entrance where Ray was waiting for them.

“You, too, Steve!” Mike replied as their driver popped the trunk for them to ditch their clothes. “So, onto Yankees Stadium, then?”

“We have a minor detour first.”

“But we already got changed.”

“Not that kind of detour. Ray, did you pick up the stuff from the hardware store?”

“Got it, boss. Donna says he got out on bail ten minutes ago, so we don’t have much time to make it to the parking lot.”

“Understood. Get inside, Mike. We’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Somewhere that involves a can of quick-drying paint?” the blond asked as their driver sped them into early rush hour traffic.

Harvey didn’t reply, instead silently watching as Ray masterfully led them past the worst traffic congestion. He checked his watch again as they neared the target location.

“Alright, boss. Keep your phone on while we keep lookout.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve done something like this, Ray.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Mike warned as he peered out the window at the parking lot across the street.

“You don’t even know what’s going on, babe,” Harvey chided as he grabbed the paint can (Ray had opened it already) and the brush resting beside it.

With a final nod, he started away from the car and across the street, feeling a bit like how Jason Bourne must have during any one of those train station manhunts or car chases. He reminded himself to watch for cars and meter maids as he strolled into the site, but once he was in he figured he’d be alright between the rows of parked vehicles.

“All clear, boss.”

Harvey pulled back the lid and dipped the brush, forcing himself to slow down as he formed the letters so they wouldn’t come out looking shaky.

“Bogey at six o’clock…no wait, forget it. Just some other guy in a suit.”

“Don’t scare me like that, Ray.”

“Just hurry up and get back here.”

It took another three minutes to finish writing and then plant the microphone on the ground beside the graffitied vehicle. “All done. I’m on my way,” Harvey concluded as snapped the lid back on the can and casually walked back onto the sidewalk and across the street.

“You cut it real close, boss,” Ray admired as Harvey slunk into the backseat. “See him? He’s at that corner there.”

“What did you draw on his car?”

“Wait and listen, babe,” Harvey corrected as he turned on the speaker and planted it on the armrest in the middle of the car.

“What the hell?! What happened to my car?!” Travis Tanner shouted. It came across screechy through the speaker, which meant that anyone on the sidewalk could probably hear him.

“Is there a problem, sir?” a meter maid called as she walked within hearing distance of the microphone.

“Yes, there is. Someone wrote ‘RED SOX SUCK’ across the windshield and hood of my car.”

The three men broke out into a fit of laughter as the meter maid confirmed the claim of the slimy Boston attorney.

“Can’t you do something about it?”

“I just check the parking meters, sir.”

“Forget it. I’ve got to get going.”

“Uhm, I’m sorry, sir, but you’re not going anywhere in that car.”

“I have a case in Boston tomorrow afternoon. I don’t have time to deal with this right now.”

“Sir, that car is not fit for service. You’re going to need to call a tow company to haul this thing over to a shop so they can try to remove that paint first.”

“I don’t think so, honey. If you knew how much I billed per hour maybe you’d understand.”

“Bad move,” Ray commented from the front seat.

“Oh I know you didn’t just call me ‘honey’! See, I was on your side, but now I’m afraid I’m going to have to call my superior officer to impound this vehicle…Hey!”

“What?”

“I just said this vehicle is impounded.”

“But I just need to get my briefcase from the trunk.”

“It’s impounded! Now I know I am just a woman who checks the meters, but if you continue to disrespect and disobey me I will be forced to restrain you.”

“I’m getting my briefcase.”

“Oh that’s it. We got a 10-13 U, a 10-13 U over at the parking lot on Worth by Center,” the woman called into her police radio. “Subject is disobeying direct police orders and may need to be restrained.”

“I don’t mean to end things early, but we should probably get going if I’m going to get you two to the game on time. Unless you want to stick around and watch the rest of this play out?”

“No, let’s go,” Harvey directed as he watched the woman chasing after Tanner; sadly, he’d managed to get his other briefcase, but it only slowed him down. “I’m sure I’ll be able to read about this in the paper tomorrow.”

“That was amazing. Are you happy now, stud?” Mike asked, pure admiration in his eyes.

“Perfect, babe,” he answered, leaning in for a kiss as Ray raised the partition. “Everything is absolutely perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue should be up sometime on Saturday.


	25. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set about a week after the last chapter. Oh, and you should skip the first section if you don't want to read any smut.

“Say…it.”

“No.”

The mid-summer air was heavy, even far up on the deck of Harvey’s condo in late evening. It clung to the senior partner’s naked body and made it difficult to maintain his composure – well, more difficult. Mike was putting up fierce resistance with both his wits and formidable glutes despite being bound to the handrail.

“Admit it,” he repeated with a forceful thrust back into the blond’s butt.

“Not…gonna happen.”

Harvey delivered a pair of ferocious spanks to Mike’s already red cheeks, causing the younger man to squeeze down on him like a vice. If he were still in his twenties it would have ended right there and then.

“Just tell me-”

“No.”

Another spank followed, although this time Harvey dragged the nails of his other hand down the blond’s back, eliciting a sharp hiss. Apparently attempting revenge, Mike raised himself up on his toes and slammed his body back into his.

Harvey hoped no one else could hear the girlish gasp he released helplessly in consequence.

“Careful…old man.”

“You little shit,” Harvey scolded, pulling out completely. Ignoring Mike’s futile whines, he eased himself down to his knees and started lapping at the blond’s stretched hole. “You’re going to say it…or no more of my cock for you.”

“Goddamn…bastard,” Mike moaned as he tried to squirm away from the brunet’s tongue.

“Say it,” Harvey commanded as he drew a deep breath; he reburied his head in the younger man’s rear just as the first annoyed refusals became audible.

“Nghaaaaaah!”

Mike tried to push Harvey back with the heel of his right foot, but the brunet grabbed it before it posed a real threat to the torture. Putting his biceps to good use, he pinned both legs back to the wooden slats underneath them both and redoubled his pleasuring.

“I know…you want me…to make it…diff-i-cult…”

“I know you want me back inside you.”

The younger man shuddered at those words, a bead of precum pooling at the tip of his own engorged member. Harvey smirked and rotated himself around so that he could lick it off.

Being able to lock eyes with Mike was a delicious side benefit to his repositioning.

“This isn’t a hostile negotiation, babe,” the older man pointed out as he slurped the blond’s glans. “We both want the same thing.”

“Fuck, Harvey.”

“That’s the prize. The question is, why aren’t you accepting it?”

“Unnnngghaaaa.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Harvey chided, seizing the base of Mike’s cock with a vice grip. “I’ve got all night, and with my talent for denying your orgasm, so will you unless you say it.”

“I’ve had…blue balls…before.”

“Confess.”

“Not…gonna.”

“As you wish, Mike.”

Harvey licked his lips and pushed his head upward at an agonizingly slow pace, enjoying the grunts and gasps with each millimeter of progress. As he neared Mike’s balls, he moved his hand to the blond’s perineum and jammed his thumb into the smooth flesh to prevent any hope of release.

“FUCK ME!” the younger man screamed into the Manhattan skyline. “Please, stud. Please just-”

Harvey moaned around the desperate man’s erection just like he’d done their first time in the glass elevator…and so many other times since.

“You’re gonna…fry my brain.”

Another string of profanities resounded through the neighborhood when the brunet licked a figure-eight across Mike’s scrotum. Harvey didn’t let up though, continuing to retrace his path until the man above him started to crack.

“Can…hold out…little longer.”

The older man delicately rotated his hand so that he could get work his index and middle fingers back into Mike’s hole. His own penis was bolt upright against his abdomen, begging him to let it back inside that tight, wet channel.

“Can…last…longer.”

Harvey knew that wasn’t true for either of them.

“…Damnit.”

Slowly pulling back, the brunet caught the pleading in his boyfriend’s eyes. His whole body was stiff with tension, from his neck on down to his toes.

“Say it.”

“You’re…you’re sexier than Daniel Craig. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic, babe,” Harvey answered as he leaned up to kiss Mike on his pouting lips. “You’re such a good boy, Mike.”

“All for you.”

“God,” he cursed, pulling away to memorize the swollenness of the blond’s nipples and the way the sweat dripped down his torso. “I need to be in you again. Do you want that?”

“Don’t waste time asking questions if you know the answer already, stud,” Mike groaned. “Fuck me. I don’t care how – just fuck me. _Please_.”

Harvey slid back out from underneath the younger man and quickly untied the rope, allowing a somewhat confused Mike to stand up fully. The brunet grabbed him at the waist and carried him over to one of the lounge chairs, dropping him onto it supine.

“I want to you be able to kiss you during,” he explained as he poured a dab of the olive oil (makeshift lube he’d grabbed in the race out here) onto his fingers to slicken the blond’s hole for the final thrusts. “I figure you can use the lumbar support, too.”

Mike uncharacteristically remained silent, opting instead for an appreciative kiss. The older man returned the gesture as he aligned himself and pushed back into him.

“Don’t…stop, stud.”

“I won’t,” he promised.

“So…close.”

“Me…too.”

Harvey wrapped a hand around the back of Mike’s head and pulled him into another kiss as he pistoned the younger man’s hole. They were both filthy and slick with sweat and saliva and lube, and it didn’t bother him at all.

He had Mike; that was all that mattered.

“Come for me, babe.”

“Don’t wanna…go…a little-”

“No. I want to…watch you…release,” Harvey explained as he slotted his other hand around Mike’s leaking erection and started to pump it. “Just let…yourself…go.”

“Unghh.”

“Do it…Mike.”

“Aaaahhh!”

“For me.”

And that’s all it took.

The blond screamed Harvey’s name as his cock shot volley after volley of spunk all over his chest and face, his perfect butt clamping down around the older man’s member.

“Jesus!”

“Need…you!” Mike called out as he continued to ride his orgasm.

With that, Harvey lunged forward and bit down on Mike’s shoulder as he emptied himself deep inside the younger man. He could vaguely feel legs wrapping tighter around his waist, but everything else was lost in the overwhelming pleasure.

“Harvey?” Mike eked out moments later.

“Yeah?”

“I love you, Harvey,” the other man whispered as both their breathing steadied. It was barely audible despite their proximity, but the brunet heard it without any doubt. “I know you might not be ready for me to say it, but it’s true, and-”

“I love you, too,” he smiled, “even if you are a goofball.”

“You’re the bigger dork.”

“Psh, only more reason for you to envy me.”

Mike leaned back up and rubbed his come-splattered face all over Harvey’s, urging a displeased groan from the latter.

“I’m going to make you pay for that later.”

“It is your birthday.”

“And what a birthday it is…why couldn’t you have been around to help me celebrate any of the previous thirty-eight?”

“First, I’m only twenty-nine still. Second, we’ve got plenty more ahead of us,” Mike countered. “Do you mind if we head back inside and get cleaned up? I feel like an over-marinated pork roast.”

“Sweeter words were never spoken,” Harvey observed, dodging a playful slap.

\-----

“Have you picked out a movie yet?” Harvey asked from the other side of the condo.

“Almost,” Mike lied as he retied the belt of his borrowed robe before bending down to retrieve the box he’d hidden underneath the couch that morning after Harvey had left for the office. “Are our tuxes okay? No wrinkles?”

“Thankfully,” the older man huffed.

“You didn’t seem too worried about them when you were tearing them off us and tossing the bits and pieces on the floor.”

“That’s because you had to suggest we go to the club after our dinner, which we were entirely overdressed for, by the way.”

“Anal is not a good idea immediately after a meal,” Mike argued as he quietly placed the box on the coffee table. “Besides, you know you loved me grinding my ass up against you on the dance floor.”

“Hence why I risked Rene’s wrath to get you naked in a hurry.”

Harvey emerged from the master bedroom with a satisfied smirk on his face. He started for his spot on the couch, but halted when he caught a glimpse of his gift.

“You didn’t need to get me anything, Mike.”

“Just open it,” the blond requested, rolling his eyes.

Harvey gave it a wary once-over before retrieving it from the table and plopping down beside Mike. “Is this some kind of gag?”

“Just. Open. It.”

The older man untied the bow quickly, but leaned away from the box as he tipped the lid with a single middle finger. When nothing exploded in his face, he started digging through the peanuts and found the first prize.

“A mug?”

Mike didn’t respond, instead waiting for him to read what he’d had printed across the side.

“‘CUDDLE CHAMP’?”

“Pretty accurate, huh?”

“Yes, well…” the brunet trailed off as he set the ceramic down on the coffee table. “I can always use another mug…I guess.”

“But wait, there’s more.”

“I might not have the patience for all of them tonight,” Harvey groaned as he resumed digging. Eventually another coffee mug began to emerge from the sea of packing material. “I think one would have been fine, rookie.”

“I only told Donna to order the first one,” Mike explained with earnest confusion.

“Wait, Donna knows about…that?” Harvey asked, motioning to the cup on the table.

“She just ordered it…them, but never mind that,” Mike instructed, pulling the other mug free of its surroundings and rotating it around.

“‘TIME LORD WANNABE’. Obviously, she got that one for you,” Harvey mocked, earning himself a dirty look from the blond. “You _do_ need a mug of your own. At least until tomorrow when we swing by your apartment and get that sorted out.”

“Maybe you don’t deserve the rest of your gifts,” Mike threatened, reaching for the box.

“Are you kidding me?” Harvey remarked as he clung onto it, “I’d say my performance on the deck was more than deserving of some rewards.”

“Fine. The rest of it should be at the bottom.”

Harvey quirked an eyebrow before plunging his arms into the pool of Styrofoam. He struggled to get a grasp on his target, but soon enough pulled an oversized envelope up from the depths.

“A love letter? You really shouldn’t have, Mike,” the older man laughed as he fiddled with the flap. “Huh, these are tickets…to San Diego?”

“Wait for it.”

“That’s the weekend of… _holy shit_ , Mike.”

“Yup, we’re going to Comic Con, Harvey,” Mike announced. “I got Jessica to give us time off and-”

He was cut off mid-sentence as Harvey kissed him violently.

“I love you, Mike Ross. I love you, I love you…” Harvey crooned as he flipped through the sheets of paper, “VIP passes, a hotel downtown by the convention center…you even booked us in business class?”

“Donna helped me with that, too. I’ve got plenty of spending money, and you don’t strike me as the type of guy who flies economy across the country.”

“Correct,” the older man affirmed. “But I’ll need to get my costume ready.”

“You gonna go as Two-Face?”

“Just because I worked in the DA’s office and my name is Harvey, Mike? Please, no way I’d be that literal.”

“So then…”

“Deathstroke,” Harvey informed with a grin as he flexed his arms. “I don’t need ridiculous alien superpowers or some sappy origin story – I’m just a complete _badass_ …and you?”

“No question: Carnage.”

“Are we going to end up having a Marvel/DC fight in the near future?”

“I just told you I’ll be wearing pretty much nothing besides spandex, and you want to have a fanboy fight?”

“Good point,” Harvey conceded as he untied Mike’s belt and ran a hand down his abdomen.

“You’d get a pass, anyway, since it’s your birthday,” Mike granted as he freed himself from the terrycloth. “So, cuddle to a comic book movie and then bed so we’re ready for moving tomorrow?”

“Sounds good…crap, I almost forgot!”

“Huh?”

“Wait right there, babe,” Harvey requested as he first divested himself of his own robe then disappeared into his home office. “I had Uli clear off one of my bookcases so we’ll have room for your books, but that’s nothing compared to what I’ve got for you.”

“What is it?”

“Ta-daa,” the older man sang as he returned with…Tyson?

“I’ve been looking everywhere for him…wait, what’s that he’s wearing?”

“Here. It _should_ look familiar.”

“Is this…my old suit?!”

“Indeed. I can’t claim credit for any of this, though. Wendy had Yolanda restuff him and repair the stitching, and Donna was the one who sweet-talked Rene and Marie into making him an outfit from that tragedy you called a suit. It looks pretty good on him, though.”

“I know I should be upset that they wrecked a perfectly good hundred dollar outfit, but this is amazing!” he gushed as he turned his little companion over. “You’re not weirded out by me having a stuffed animal still?”

“We just discussed plans for cosplaying, Mike,” Harvey dismissed as he resumed his seat and pulled Mike in closer to him. “Now what’s this guy’s name?”

“Tyson Bam Boo.”

“And his origin story?”

“I’ll happily divulge it to you while you get the movie started. And if you want, I can keep him in my suitcase-”

“I’ve got a better idea: since he’s dressed for the part, we can have him keep watch over the suits in our walk-in,” Harvey envisioned as he reached for the remote. “Besides, if anyone asks I’ll tell him he’s yours…dork.”

“Mega dork.”

“Super dork.”

\-----

To: Donna

Sent: 9:04 AM

_Y’know something? I am the Cuddle Champ._

 

From: Donna

Received: 9:07 AM

_I cannot believe you just put that in writing._

 

To: Donna

Sent: 9:07 AM

_Shit. Donna, erase that last text._

 

From: Donna

Received: 9:10 AM

_It’s not even your birthday anymore, but fine, I’ll erase it. Don’t forget about this the next time you take me to Hermès._

 

To: Donna

Sent: 9:12 AM

_I’ll need to see your phone on Monday morning to verify._

 

To: Donna

Sent: 9:23 AM

_Donna?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd originally intended to include the scene of Harvey and Mike packing up the latter's books here, but I opted to split that off as a future chapter for the other work since this seemed like a good place to end it. I might write about that trip to Comic Con, too, but don't expect that tomorrow or anything. Then there's Harvey's leather chaps...gah, best not to list these here...
> 
> And with that, it's a wrap. There are definitely some parts that still irk me, and you can tell that I'm still an amateur when it comes to crafting a story from the areas in which I struggled (pacing foremost among them). Still, I'm proud of what I accomplished. More than that, I'm thankful for readers like you who managed to make it to the finish line, even when it probably felt like you were dragging me along to the next update.
> 
> In other words, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Untitled Marvey Fanart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4231806) by [armapella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/armapella/pseuds/armapella)




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